The Last Witness
by nebbyJen
Summary: Arrested for murder, McKay manages to escape with the help of a stranger. Unfortunately, nothing can be as simple as it first appears.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Stargate Atlantis does not belong to me. I merely tinker with the characters, put them through stress and turmoil, and then set them free once more.

This is rated PG for suggested physical discomfort. Rating may change to a stronger level as the story progresses.

And, finally… this has been Betaed by a wonderful group of new friends. Amazing how they each see things differently. Thanks! You know who you are!

The Last Witness by nebbyjen

Chapter 1.

Dr. Aloyna Mika, Pennatroca's chief energy scientist, studied the display on the small datapad that the visiting off world scientist continued to type upon and then hand to her. "Dr. McKay, I don't understand. We've used geothermal energy for decades to power our cities. Not once has there been any type of serious malfunction." The middle-aged woman glanced up at the smug visiting physicist seated across the table. His attitude wore upon her and she felt her patience failing fast. "Are you trying to tell me that our previous six years of clinical testing and data collection is wrong? Who do you think you are? Coming here from some place we've never seen, tearing our work to pieces."

"I didn't say you were wrong. I said your data was inconclusive due to the fact that it was compromised, because you apparently hadn't taken into consideration the movement of the planetary plates." Rodney eyed Dr. Mika with contempt. He had spent the better part of the past two days arguing with this woman, trying to make her understand the dynamics of plate tectonics, only to listen to her feeble attempts to disprove him. Shifting on his uncomfortable stool, he pressed his hands firmly down on the table and tried to keep himself from calling her the absolute idiot he thought she was. "I think we've come to an impasse, doctor. If you're not willing to accept what I've been telling you, then I have to believe that there is nothing left for us to discuss. Good day."

Rising to his feet, he picked up his warm jacket and he made his way over to the door, letting himself out. "Advanced science," he grumbled, walking stiffly down the bustling hallway. Tapping the call switch on his radio, he signaled Sheppard, "Major, I'm finished here. There's no reason for me to continue."

"_Understood_," came the swift reply. "_Ford and Teyla should be finished soon. Meet us back at the jumper in fifteen."_

"Roger that, fifteen minutes. Out." Shoving the radio back inside his front pocket, Rodney realized that in his haste to leave, he'd left his datapad back on the table with the science director. The mere thought of having to confront that stubborn woman again made tightness between his brows form as he turned and marched once more towards the main office of the center.

His determined pace slowed when he heard loud, angry voices emanating from behind the closed doors of the lab. One was from a male that Rodney didn't recognize, and the other was clearly an agitated Dr. Mika. The sound of something heavy impacting the wall with a thud ended the yelling, before the door was brusquely flung open and a large man dressed in blue stormed out, practically knocking Rodney down in his haste.

"Excuse me," the physicist snapped at the retreating figure. "And people think I'm rude." Tugging his jacket, Rodney straightened his shoulders and readied himself for another confrontation. "Dr. Mika, I left a piece of my equipment in your office," he announced as he entered the doorway.

Greeted with silence, he walked over to the table in search of his datapad, only to be stopped when he spotted the crumpled figure of the science director on the floor. "Dr. Mika?" Quickly kneeling, he checked her pulse to see if she was alive and discovered to his dismay that she wasn't breathing. "I need some help in here!" he yelled over his shoulder towards any passerby in the hallway.

Carefully straightening Dr. Mika, Rodney placed his hand behind her neck and tipped her jaw forward. Something warm and wet coated his left hand and he knew without looking that it had to be blood. Without a second thought, he wiped the substance off on his pant leg, then pinched her nose and began artificial respirations. Totally focused on attempting to revive the fallen scientist, he didn't hear the security detail enter the room behind him.

"Stop!" The first guard commanded as he grabbed Rodney by the scruff of the neck and tossed him painfully back against one of the legs of the lab table, away from the scientist.

Confused for just a moment, Rodney shook his head and then tried to see around the foreboding figure blocking his view. "I was trying to help her."

The guard didn't look impressed. "I am not familiar with the customs of your world, but on ours, we do not molest our injured."

"Molest! I was giving her CPR. Cardio pulmonary resuscitation. I was helping her breathe." A bad feeling began to niggle in the back of Rodney's brain.

Several more members of the Pennatrocan science community came rushing in to the room, gathering around their scientist. "She's dead," one exclaimed. All eyes turned and looked at the stranger seated on the floor with blood on his hands and clothing.

"What did you do?" an elderly, dignified man demanded, glaring at Rodney.

That niggling feeling erupted into a full-blown warning bell. "I didn't _do_ anything other than try to help her." Glancing down at his hands, the physicist realized things couldn't look any worse; that was, until his radio came to life.

"_McKay, where are you_?" Sheppard's voice snapped_. "I thought you said you were ready to leave."_

Rodney looked up at the looming security member before him, and then to the others. Slowly sliding his hand in his pocket, he activated his radio. "Major, I need some…" he began to say before the guard quickly reached down and painfully yanked his arm free. Next thing he knew, he no longer had the radio. He watched the other man shut it off and stuff it in his own pocket.

"Ouch! Take it easy there, Brutus," Rodney griped as he rubbed his shoulder. "I was only going to notify the major that I needed some help." A quick look at the shocked surrounding faces, he shifted uneasily further back against the table. He hadn't experienced this much animosity since the day he'd activated one of Kavanaugh's projects without asking, and set the man's lab on fire. 'Hurry, Major,' he silently pleaded.

'Brutus' reached back down and grasped Rodney once again by his sore arm, pulling the physicist to his feet. "Dr. McKay, you do need to come with me. Your friends will have to wait."

SG: A

"McKay!" Sheppard yelled into his radio for the third time, still not receiving any response from the missing scientist. Mentally replaying Rodney's last transmission, '_Major, I need some...'_ he grimaced, looking to Teyla and Ford's apprehensive expressions. Was the scientist in trouble? Did his radio die? Did he touch something he shouldn't have…again?

Pacing inside the small Jumper cabin, he stopped before the others as they both stood patiently waiting for his orders. "Come on," he decided, attaching his P-90 to his vest, "let's go see what he's done this time."

TBC

A/N Here we go again!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

Sheppard, Ford, and Teyla made their way to the Energy Science building, through a gathered throng of onlookers, conscious of the wary and some downright hostile glares they were receiving. Upon entering the facility, they encountered half a dozen armed security personnel that wouldn't permit them access beyond the lobby.

Never one to be pushed without pushing back, Sheppard cleared his throat loudly. "Someone care to tell me what's going on?" he asked to no one in particular.

A small man dressed in all black and not much larger than Teyla stepped forward. "You must be Major Sheppard. Follow me, please." Turning, he headed towards a door guarded by two hulking security officers, only to stop when he realized Sheppard hadn't moved an inch. "If you wish to see your friend, you must come with me," he reiterated.

Scowling, Sheppard replied, "I'd be happy to, if you would tell me who you are, and why Dr. McKay isn't answering his radio."

"At this moment, Major Sheppard, you do not have the liberty of your questions being answered. Now, follow me." The small man turned on his heel and made his way brusquely through the crowd, with the onlookers parting like Moses and the Red Sea. This time he didn't bother looking back, knowing the others had no choice but to follow.

"Officious little runt," the major muttered as he watched the retreating figure for a second, his instinctive dislike blossoming into outright hostility, before turning to Ford. "Get back to the Jumper and notify Atlantis that we have a problem and that McKay's most likely involved. We're gong to need some back up. And don't forget radio contact!" With a brisk nod of acknowledgement, he watched Ford hurried away. "Teyla, you're with me."

"Major Sheppard," the small man snapped from the doorway to the outside entrance, "Please don't keep me waiting."

"Coming," he replied. With a quick glance to Teyla, he whispered under his breath, "Let's not keep the little weasel waiting."

The Athosian woman kept pace beside him as they exited the building. "Why do you think they are detaining Dr. McKay?" she asked quietly.

"I don't know yet, but I have a feeling the good doctor is connected to all of this somehow." Stepping inside the small shuttle that was waiting outside, he sat between Teyla and a big goon of a guard that was eyeing up the young woman, while Noda retained a seat in the front. Folding his arms, he glared at the larger man until the guard looked away. "Ready when you are," he said with a wave.

The shuttle sped through the busy city, coming to a halt before a large grey stone building at least ten stories tall. Someone on the outside opened the transport's door, gesturing for the occupants to disembark.

The little man exited first, not even looking back to the others, and disappeared behind the building's large dark glass doors. The remaining individuals followed silently, escorted by two more guards to a small room with a table and four chairs.

"This reminds me of a bad movie," Sheppard whispered to Teyla as they each took a seat.

Moments later, the little man reappeared from another door carrying a container that he placed on the table with a thump. Slowly he removed each item, displaying them out of reach: Rodney's datapad, radio, his sidearm, and his uniform. The man took extra care in unfolding the uniform so that the dried blood was easy to make out. He then tapped a small switch on the wall, revealing a screen that displayed a picture of the missing scientist still dressed in his outfit with his hands splayed out, showing the blood on both palms. The look on McKay's face was one of utter disgust.

"Oh, crap," Sheppard mumbled to himself. Sitting up straight in his seat, he leaned forward staring directly at the man in charge, "What happened?"

"I'll ask the questions, major. My name is Commander Noda and I run the security of this city. Today, approximately one hour ago, Mr. McKay..."

"Doctor. His title _is Dr. McKay_," Sheppard corrected, tightly folding his arms across his chest.

Dark eyes burned with hatred towards the major. "Do not interrupt me again. While the prisoner remains within the custody of this facility, he holds no title." Noda stood and made his way to stand behind Teyla and Sheppard's chairs, "Mr. McKay was found abusing Dr. Mika in her laboratory after some sort of altercation. Witnesses have stated that they overheard an argument between the scientists earlier in the day, and Mr. McKay left the facility. Moments later he returned, there was another argument, and then he was discovered abusing the dead woman's body." Leaning between the two from Atlantis, Noda pointed to the blood on the uniform, "The evidence does not lie."

Silence filled the small room as each individual studied the items on display.

The major turned sideways in his seat to face Teyla, almost bumping noses with the Pennatrocan, "Begging your pardon, Commander, but I'd like to see Dr. McKay and get his side of the story."

The small man stood up and stiffly made his way back to the other side of the table. His ice blue eyes sparkled, enjoying the fact that he was in control, "I will allow one of you to see Mr. McKay. The other must remain here."

Teyla met Sheppard's glance and nodded. "I will remain, Major." Glancing towards the large guard by the door, she cast a small glimpse of a smile to her friend, "I can take of myself."

"I know you can," the major replied with a grim smile. "It's them I'm worried about." Rising from his seat, he turned to Noda, "No harm to her while I'm gone."

"We have no interest in the woman. Leave your weapons!" the commander snapped, watching Sheppard hand his pack and small arsenal to his companion, before opening the door and escorting the major out.

SG: A

Noda, Sheppard, and two guards entered a small transparent elevator. Noting the look interest on the offworlder's face, Noda actually volunteered a bit of information. "We like to be able to see what is going on in our facility at all times."

The small lift went up seven floors before coming to a halt. Noda once again led the way through the facility, past rooms with force fields in front and prisoners inside. He stopped at the very end of one passageway and gestured inside. There sitting alone, was one very unhappy Rodney McKay, dressed in a red jumpsuit, studying the floor while drumming his fingers together.

"Hey," Sheppard called out.

Rodney's head came up with a snap at the sound of his friend's voice. "Oh, thank god. I thought I was going to be in here forever."

Sheppard pointed to the force field and looked over to Noda, "Can I go in? I want to make sure he's alright."

The commander nodded and pressed a small device he was holding in his hand. The shield shifted so that only half of the entranceway was blocked. "I will leave a guard here and be back shortly." Once Sheppard was inside, the shield was returned to full and Noda walked away.

Rodney remained seated on his cot, shifting slightly to make room, while warily watching the major sit beside him. "Don't tell me, I'm going to be here for awhile, aren't I?"

Dropping to sit beside McKay, Sheppard sighed. "I sent Ford back to call Weir and to send reinforcements." He studied his friend closely, looking for any sign of injury, and noticing Rodney looked a bit flushed and his hair was damp. "You all right? What's with the wet hair?"

"Let's just say I've had two showers today. One by choice, the other by them," Rodney said as he nodded towards the guard. Rubbing his hands together, he closely examined the backs and palms. "They weren't too keen on me having blood on my hands. It seems they're a bit obsessive when it comes to neatness."

Sheppard wasn't quite sure what his friend was talking about, but figured whatever occurred, it hadn't been pleasant. "Tell me what happened."

It didn't take long for Rodney to tell the whole story, beginning with the argument and ending with being discovered 'molesting' the body. Several times while reiterating the details, he rolled one shoulder and grimaced without even realizing he was doing it. Once completed, he leaned his head back against the wall and sighed.

The major sat and wrapped his mind around what he had just been told. Disbelief filled his voice, "So, you were only performing CPR?"

"Yes. Apparently, their medical advances are a bit behind their technology. They seem to believe that I was molesting the body," Rodney said with a grimace.

Sheppard stood and ran his hands through his hair, making it even more disarrayed than usual. Pacing the small cell, he stopped in front of the force field, eyeing up the back of the guard. "How'd you get hurt?"

Rodney looked puzzled a moment, before glaring past the major towards the bulky guard. "Oh, they believe in dragging people around by the arm." Looking down at his shoulder, he rolled it slowly. "It's just a bit tender."

An overwhelming urge to hurt someone coursed through the major, for he knew if Rodney said it was 'a bit tender', that it had to be hurting. It was when the scientist volunteered information on illnesses without being asked, that they could safely ignore him. Struggling to maintain his composure, he turned to face his friend once more, "Want me to get Beckett here?"

The scientist shook his head 'no'. "I just want to leave."

Noda returned outside the doorway and lowered the shield. A grim smile played across his face as he tapped the controls impatiently on his leg. "Your time is up, Major."

Ignoring the little weasel, Sheppard crouched in front of his too quiet friend, "I know you do. We'll get you out of this, I promise." Patting Rodney on the knee, he stood up and made his way out the door. Pausing, he turned back and gave his trademark smile, "When I come back I'm going to have Beckett with me. You make sure to eat while I'm gone." Once on the other side of the shield, he turned to Noda and the guard, and then back to the quiet scientist. "Nothing more better happen to him after I leave," his warning clear to the strangers.

A final glance towards McKay, he nodded, and then allowed himself to be led back to the elevator.

SG: A

Rodney sat inside his small cell, alone once more. He was relieved to know that the others knew where he was but troubled that it would take longer than he'd hoped to leave. Tipping his head back against the wall, he closed his eyes, trying to ignore the throbbing in his shoulder. 'Why does this always happen to me?' he pondered before slowly slipping sideways to lie down. Maybe this was all a bad dream and when he awoke, he'd be back on Atlantis.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"Wake up!"

The callous demand abruptly pulled Rodney from his restless sleep that he was certain had only been minutes, since he was sure that the major had just left. Momentarily forgetting his circumstance, he rolled sluggishly onto his back before the horrid events of earlier in the day came rushing back with a vengeance. The open unseeing eyes of Dr. Mika as she stared at the ceiling from where she'd fallen, wounded, left to die…and the Pennatrocans thought he'd killed her.

He didn't have time to ponder any further as a hand grabbed him viciously by the arm and yanked him harshly to his feet. Stifling a groan as a wave of fresh pain vibrated throughout his already tender shoulder, he blinked heavily, tying to clear the disorienting fuzziness from his mind and vision. Two figures formed, standing before him, Commander Noda and the guard 'Brutus'. "Gentlemen," he began, but stopped when an irritating tickle in the back of his throat caused him to cough. He could seriously use a drink of water.

"Silence," the little man snapped, eyeing his prisoner with undisguised scorn. "You will come with us." When Rodney made no effort to move, Noda snapped his fingers before exiting the cell, leaving 'Brutus' to bring the scientist by any means necessary.

One look at the giant about to make a grab for him again, Rodney held up his good hand, "I'm coming. Geesh, haven't you people heard of the Geneva Convention?" Taking a cautious step, he almost lost his balance when the room did a sideways shift before settling. 'Wonderful,' he thought. Having been a patient of Beckett's on more than one occasion, he recognized the symptoms of being drugged. But when did it happen? He'd made certain not to eat anything since his arrival, deciding to wait until the major returned.

Following Noda brisk steps with 'Brutus' close on his heels, he carefully studied his surroundings while they made their way down the hallway. Several of the cells they passed contained male prisoners ranging in age from teens to seniors. There didn't appear to be any wall units or computer controls to access the force fields other than the hand held devices carried by the guards. And the odd, clear lifts with no visible signs of a stairwell, 'What's up with that?' he wondered.

They came to a stop in front of a small closed white door that Noda activated open with his hand control. Inside the all white room was one padded chair situated in the center of the room, with a red square marked on the floor a meter before it. The commander sat down with his back straight, both feet flat on the floor, leaving 'Brutus' to shove Rodney to the square.

"Stay," he demanded, letting go of the scientist's arm, giving little option for anything else.

"You really aren't much for conversation, are you?" Rodney quipped, trying to ease the tightening in his gut that warned him he was in serious trouble. Taking a step backwards towards the wall, he leaned against the solid form for support. He might not recognize the set up, but it didn't take a genius to know an interrogation room when he saw one. Eyeing the strangers holding him captive, his mind set clicked, ready for the confrontation.

Commander Noda did not look pleased as he sat rigid in his seat. He didn't like this offworlder with the cocky attitude slouching against the wall, apparently attempting to test his authority. "Stand straight when I am speaking to you."

Rodney shifted with deliberate slowness, stepping forward again. He could feel an uncomfortable warmth flush his hands and face and the glaring overhead lights were beginning to give him a headache. "Would you mind if I sat down? I'm really not feeling very well. I seem to have missed lunch. I doubt you even know what it means to be hypoglycemic, but if you expect me to stand here while you ask me mundane questions that I don't have the answers to for an extensive amount of time, you might be in for a bit of a shock. I have a bad habit of passing out."

"When we are finished, then you may return to your cell." The commander ignored Rodney, activating the viewing screen on the wall, bringing up the image of Dr. Mika dead on the lab floor. "First, I want you to tell me what you did to our Science Director."

"I found her that way and tried to help her." Rodney felt like a broken record. How many more times were they going to ask him the same question?

"Your lies are useless here, Mr. McKay. Your friends have left you because they know you are guilty." Shifting in his seat, Noda tapped the controls in his hands making the lights in the room brighter. "Tell me what you did to Dr. Mika."

Rodney took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. Mentally readying himself for what he knew was about to be an unpleasant experience, he pulled himself together and stared smugly at his interrogator, "Ask me anything you want, my answers will remain the same. I did not kill Dr. Mika."

SG: A

It had taken Major Sheppard and Teyla close to an hour to make the trip out of the city, back to the Jumper and Ford. Surprised to find Jumper 2 in close proximity, along with Weir, Beckett, and Stackhouse, the major shot a questioning glance to his boss, "Who'd you leave to run the shop?"

"Doctors Zelenka and Grodin, along with Lt. Ford, have each been assigned areas until we return. We've been waiting for you and now that you're here," Dr. Weir nodded to the young lieutenant, "I'm trusting Atlantis to your care. Notify me immediately of any concerns."

The young lieutenant didn't look pleased at the thought of leaving but he understood that he was the next ranking military individual. "Yes, ma'am." Making his way inside Jumper 2, he turned, looking back to Sheppard and grinned, "Tell Dr. McKay, we'll have dinner waiting for him."

"Yeah, I have a feeling he'd like that. Don't let anyone through while we're gone." Sheppard watched the door slide shut before standing back beside the others, giving room for the Jumper to lift off. Once it was no longer in sight, the group gathered inside Jumper 2 to plan their next step.

Beckett sat closest to the major, filling his field kit with first aid supplies. "How _did_ he look, Major? You told Lieutenant Ford he was quiet. Is he sick or hurt?"

"Oh, you know Rodney, he's not very happy at the moment. They've got him locked up in their idea of a police station and I don't think they've been gentle. Aside from a sore arm he got while being escorted about, I didn't see anything else wrong." Sheppard stood up and slipped his pack back over his shoulder, thoughtful for a moment. "He was awfully quiet though and didn't seem to appreciate the forced shower."

Weir looked up and scowled, "What'd they do that for?"

The clip to Sheppard's handgun snapped back into place as finished inspecting his weapon. Raising a brow, he shrugged, "Appears the Pennatrocans have a thing about blood. Also, they accused McKay of molesting the body when he tried to perform CPR."

Weir shot a look to Beckett, "Maybe you should keep a low profile. If it becomes necessary at any point, you will only render aid to members of our team. Understood?"

The Scotsman didn't like the thought of not assisting anyone injured but he knew getting McKay back was their number one priority. "Aye."

"Good." Tugging her pack tighter across her shoulder, Weir nodded to Sheppard and Teyla, "Lead the way. Let's go get Rodney and go home."

SG: A

It was early evening by the time the team made their way back, through the strangely deserted city streets, to the Security Station. Standing outside in the chilled evening air, they stopped before the tall windowless building that held their friend and glanced at one another before Sheppard activated the door and ushered them inside.

Four armed guards promptly intercepted them before they were able to reach the front desk, while a fifth stepped forward with his arms folded across his chest. "This facility is closed to visitors for the remainder of the day. You must come back tomorrow and make an appointment to see inmates."

Taking a bold step forward, Atlantis's leader nodded to the guard, "I'm Dr. Elizabeth Weir. I understand that you are holding a crewmember of mine. I would appreciate the opportunity to see him this evening and make sure that he is being treated adequately."

The guard didn't move. "This facility is closed," he reiterated coldly.

"Then we want to see Noda," Sheppard demanded, resting his hand on the P-90 slung across his chest.

A hint of something nasty glimmered in the corner of the guard's eyes, "Commander Noda is in interrogation. He should be available shortly."

"Good. We'll wait here." It was clear by the major's body language that he wasn't about to move.

Within thirty minutes Noda appeared, exiting from the lift. It was apparent by his demeanor that he knew of the offworlders waiting for him, and enjoyed making them wait. "Dr. Weir, my staff informed me of your request. Our facility is closed, but so that relations between our peoples may remain open, I will permit you brief access to Mr. McKay."

Weir nodded to Sheppard and Beckett, "I would like my two officers to see to _Dr. McKay_ while you and I discuss his situation. Teyla and Sgt. Stackhouse will accompany me." She was not going to give the small man the opportunity to dictate to her how her team was to be dispersed. "Gentlemen, I expect a complete report on his condition."

"Yes, ma'am." The major nodded to the physician, and they turned to follow the guard to the lift, when a strong hand dropped on their shoulders, stopping them. Beckett's eyes grew large but Sheppard merely smiled reassuringly. "Forget something?" He asked the burly guard who had a hold of his pack.

"I must insist that you leave your weapons, Major Sheppard," Noda said from behind them.

Unclipping their P-90s and holsters, they passed their hardware to Stackhouse. "Keep a close watch," Sheppard cautioned quietly. "See if you can get a feel for the layout of the building, too, just in case." The unspoken idea of breaking McKay out passed silently between them.

The sergeant nodded warily, eyeing the large guard who was rifling through Sheppard and Beckett's packs before handing returning them. "Understood, sir."

With one final glance around the group, the major tugged on the physician's sleeve, "Come on; let's go check on our wayward scientist."

TBC

A/N Thanks for the feedback. I admit it, I love seeing them appear and knowing what you think.

A bit of a spoiler (Don't read if you don't want to know)…I don't plan on Rodney being in prison long and there will not be any horrible mistreatment. But, there will be some excitement and this has a long ways to go! (I don't read or write torture stories.) Jen


	4. Chapter 4

(Author's note: I updated this and fixed a few trouble spots. I'm still not completely satisfied but it's going to have to do for now. J)

Chapter 4

The long, brightly lit corridor was empty except for two guards delivering the evening meal to the prisoners. One guard stood watch while the other lowered the shield and slid a tray across the floor. Once the shield returned to normal, the inmates picked up the tray and sat on their bunks to eat since the rooms did not contain a table.

When the guards reached the last room, Sheppard and Beckett's escort instructed from behind them for the shield to be left open. The guard holding McKay's dinner silently passed it to Sheppard before returning down the hallway.

The teammates eyed the contents on the tray with distaste before all thoughts of what the mystery meal might entail when they caught their first glimpse of McKay. Lying curled on his side facing the wall, he was holding his sore arm tightly against his chest with his eyes clenched shut. Fine tremors shook his entire body and his breathing had an occasional ragged hitch as he gasped from the pain lancing through his skull. Captured in the throes of a full-blown migraine, he wasn't aware of their arrival.

Beckett cast a quick glimpse to the major and then to the guard behind them. Not wanting his identity as a physician revealed, he shifted with fake nervousness and eyed their friend warily. "Want me to check him out, Major?"

Sheppard played his part and nodded thoughtfully, "Yeah, see what you can do for him until we can get him back to the doc."

The cot barely had room for him to sit on beside Rodney as he placed his hand over the ailing man's forehead checking for a temperature and then reaching down to take his pulse. When Rodney shifted slightly, Beckett leaned forward to speak softly, "Take it easy, lad. I'm here to help you until we can get you back to the _medics_ on Atlantis," punctuating his words with a soft squeeze to Rodney's uninjured shoulder. The physicist appeared to understand when he slowly reached out and touched Beckett's with his free hand.

The doctor hated seeing his irritating friend in such discomfort and not being able to help. It was clear to him that Rodney had the mother of all headaches, but anymore than that was speculation. "One to ten, how bad is it?"

Rodney swallowed, tucking his chin further to his chest. "Ten," he whispered. When Scotsman's cool hands rested on his forehead and slowly kneaded his temple, he relaxed minutely. Daring to crack one eye open and look up, he instantly grimaced and clenched his eyes once more to block out the glaring overhead light. "Please, turn it off," he gasped, feeling his stomach roil and threaten to let go.

Unzipping his jacket, Beckett glanced over to Sheppard and then looked towards the overhead panel, "Major, can you do somethin' about the lights?"

Sheppard had been standing in the doorway, cautiously keeping an eye on his friends as well as the guards at the end of the hall. Grateful for some small way to help, he quickly stepped out of the room.

In the mean time, Beckett slipped off his warm jacket and draped it over the physicist's head, blocking the obtrusive light. Removing a bottle of water and a blister pack of pain meds from his field kit, he popped out two pills. "Have you eaten anything since you've been here, lad?"

Rodney's 'no' was barely audible from underneath the coat "Just some water when I got back."

"You need to put a wee bit in your stomach before I give you somethin' for the pain. Do you think you could keep a few bites of a power bar down?" Rummaging through his pack, he located two foil wrapped bars.

A small sigh emanated from the still figure before his free hand opened. Eating anything was the last thing Rodney wanted to do but if it meant pain relief, he was willing to give it a try. Feeling the familiar shape tucked in his palm; he brought it under the dark jacket and took a small bite. Hesitantly swallowing, he waited to sense what his stomach would do before taking another bite. The uncomfortable growl of hunger won out over the nausea of the headache. Halfway through the bar, he tired and his hand drooped with exhaustion as he lost hold of his dinner.

Beckett reached for it but stopped when the lights in the cell dimmed considerably. Glancing back out to the hallway, he noticed that the other cell across the way remained brightly lit. The individual seated on the opposite cot was watching him intently and when he made eye contact, the individual cautiously lifted the cup from his dinner tray and dumped it in the small sink, shaking his head slowly. Frowning, Carson lifted the cup from Rodney's tray and sniffed. There was a hint of something medicinal.

Casually rising to his feet, he walked the few steps to the tap and ran the water, pretending to rinse the cup for a fresh drink. Carrying it back to Rodney's side, he sniffed the fresh water, discovering the same scent, before he set the cup on the floor. Nodding thanks to the other prisoner, his gesture was subtly returned.

Lifting his jacket from over the physicist's head, he pressed the back of his hand to Rodney's cheeks and forehead. "Do you think you can keep a few tablets down?" he asked quietly. "It's safe to open your eyes now, lad. The major got the lights adjusted so they won't hurt your eyes."

Rodney grunted, holding out his hand, before closing it around the tablets Beckett handed him. Popping them in his mouth, he washed them down with water from a water bottle. Waiting for the blessed relief he hoped would soon come, he allowed himself to relax as Beckett continued to skillfully knead his temples, the lights no longer burned into his brain, and he was no longer alone with that crazed Noda. The Pennatrocan commander had never moved during the questioning, he only changed the brightness of lights that shone on McKay to the point that the physicist thought his head would explode for sure from his headache.

"How's he doing?" Sheppard's concerned voice broke the stillness of the room.

Beckett turned around in surprise; he hadn't heard the major return. "He isn't talking yet. Let's give him a few minutes for the medication to take affect." Reaching down to pick the cup off the floor, Carson set it on the edge of the sink. "You know the stories about the water south of the border?"

The Major's eyes went from the cup, to Rodney, and then to Beckett. "They gave him a shower."

Nodding, Beckett looked back down at his patient. "Knowing Rodney's penchant for allergies and bad reactions to foreign stimuli, I believe we know what part of his problem is."

SG: A

Dr. Weir sat stiffly at the table with Sgt. Stackhouse on one side of her and Teyla on the other. The two teammates had assumed the position of her bodyguards and neither hell nor high water, nor the little Commander Noda would have access to her.

Examining the evidence displayed before her, she studied Rodney's uniform and then the visual images of the dead scientist. The blood on the clothing was limited to Rodney's pant legs, as if he was wiping his hands. Blood on the images consisted of a smear on the woman's nose, most likely from when he'd pinched it, performing CPR. Glancing towards Noda's smug figure across the table, she pointed to the dead woman's picture. "Did you find the weapon that killed her?"

"No."

"Commander, I'm not trained in physiology, but it appears that she was struck on the back of the head. I don't understand why you would believer that Dr. McKay did that to her, and then attempted to resuscitate her?"

The little man's face pinched in irritation; he did not like his authority questioned by anyone, particularly a woman. "I asked Mr. Mc…"

"_Dr. McKay_," Weir interrupted with a half smile.

"Yes," Noda growled. "He admits to arguing with her. Perhaps he found her intolerance to accept his point of view disturbing."

"Disturbing enough that he wanted to kill her?" Weir shook her head. "Dr. McKay is a valuable member of my crew. In the amount of time that I have known him, I have never seen him attack another individual because of a difference of opinion. As a matter of fact, I've _never_ seen him hurt anyone."

When he didn't respond to her comment, she leaned on the table, directing her gaze straight at him, making him shift in his seat. "I want him back Commander Noda. Unless you have more than this," she waved her hand over the items on the table, "circumstantial evidence, I don't believe you have the right to hold my team member."

Noda stood up abruptly, sending his chair back into the wall with a thump. "There will be a trial and there will be punishment. What you want, _Doctor,_ is really none of my concern. Our facility is closed for the remainder of the day. I will have your people sent down from upstairs, immediately." With that, he exited the room.

Dr. Weir reached out and touched the uniform, amazed that Noda had left his evidence behind. Glancing between the silent figures of Teyla and Stackhouse, she gestured towards the contents on the table. "Your thoughts?"

Teyla's slim hand reached out to touch the uniform, "I agree with you, Dr. Weir. I also have never seen Dr. McKay attack another individual. Commander Noda is wrong in his assessment."

"So, we need to find the real killer before they pin this on McKay," Stackhouse added. Adjusting the angle on the view screen of the picture of Dr. Mika, he memorized every detail of the lab. "I think we need to see the scene of the crime."

"They're not going to let us in there tonight." Elizabeth stood up and motioned for the others to follow. Seeing Stackhouse's sly smile, her eyes squinted as she looked to him and then Teyla, "What?"

"Major Sheppard already has a plan, ma'am," he whispered, as they walked out of the small room and headed back towards the lobby to wait for the rest of the team.

SG: A

Drugs. He'd never really thought there'd be a day a when he'd actually want to hug Carson for giving him some, but now that the throbbing in his skull had diminished immensely, he was having second thoughts. Slowly sitting up with help, his back against the wall, and Carson on one side and Sheppard on the other, he felt a glimmer of hope. "How long?" he asked quietly.

The major leaned forward, resting his forehead in the palms of his hands with his elbows on his knees; this way if they were being watched the observers couldn't tell what he was saying. "Weir's downstairs with Noda right now. I doubt he's going to just let you go so we're going to need to improvise." Shifting slightly to meet his friend's gaze, he tried to smile encouragingly. "Stackhouse is getting the layout just in case we need to pull an old-fashioned jailbreak."

Rodney shook his head in disbelief, "I think I'm going to need more than a file in a cake, Major."

A real smile lit up Sheppard's face as he grinned over to Beckett, seeing the physician smile in return. If McKay was getting snippy then he must be feeling better. The sound of several sets of feet heading in their direction brought their conversation to a halt.

Noda, Brutus, and another guard stood outside the cell. "It is time for you to leave," the commander demanded, tapping his leg impatiently with the shield controls.

Sheppard and Beckett stood hesitantly to their feet, hating to leave Rodney behind once more. "I'll be fine," he tried to encourage as they turned to look at him. "Maybe I'll come up with a new cake recipe while I'm here."

Knowingly, the three shared a small smile while Sheppard tapped a three-fingered 'w' on his neck as if he was scratching an itch before stepping back into the hallway. The signal to 'wait'.

Rodney nodded, sighing deeply before lying down once more. A small lump underneath his blanket stopped him from getting too comfortable. Shifting so that he wouldn't be seen, he discovered that Carson had slipped him the rest of the blister pack, as well as the bottle of water, and two more power bars. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself the luxury of sleep, knowing his friends were out there.

SG: A

Sometime early in the morning, the building began to shake, waking all its occupants. Tumbling out of bed, Rodney ran to the doorway in an attempt to figure out what was happening. Glancing across the hallway to the man on the other side, he saw the individual prying a panel off the wall, exposing several cables. Removing some sort of homemade knife, the prisoner carefully separated thewires before he sliced through two and tied the opposite lines together, creating a shower of sparks and then total darkness. Moments later a hand roughly grabbed McKay by his good arm. "Come on,"an unknown voice demanded. "We're getting out of here."

TBC

A/N ;) Bwahahaha!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

A coating of frost made its way slowly across the panes of windows as the team walked silently through the abandoned streets towards the science center. Sticking close together with their breath misting white in the frigid night air, none spoke, their thoughts replaying the same events from earlier in the day. Not certain how they would gain the release of their friend from captivity; they hoped that somehow the Pennatrocans had missed something.

"Major?" Weir's voice broke the stillness, drawing each member from introspection. "The building is bound to be closed. How do you plan on getting us inside?"

A quirk of a smile tugged the corners of Sheppard's mouth. Raising a mischievous brow, he nodded to Stackhouse, "Did you bring the party favors?"

"Yes, sir, two cakes and a half dozen candles." Shrugging off his pack, he removed two brown MRE packets and a container of utensils.

The major took one packet and made quick work of ripping it open, fingering a small brick of C-4 before accepting several firing pins from the sergeant. "We'll take the side door off, and make our way to the second floor using the stairwell. Teyla, you're in charge of watching our six and making sure that no matter what may happen, you get Dr. Weir out of the building at all costs if necessary. Beckett, you're going with me and Stackhouse to the lab. We know these people are neat freaks so I doubt they've left any trace behind, but hopefully they might have missed whatever the killer was originally after."

The sharp point of Teyla's knife jimmied the cover off the power station box, allowing Sheppard access to attach override clips. Effectively dismantling the alarm system before Stackhouse expertly applied the explosive, they stood back as near silent 'pops' blew the hinges off the side entranceway. Hugging the wall, they slipped inside the building.

A lone guard walked the perimeter of the inner first floor corridor with disinterest, unaware of the intruders. His footfalls eventually muffled behind a closing door at the end of a hallway, the group skirted across the foyer and silently raced up the stairwell. Once Sheppard gave the all clear for the second floor, they broke into two groups in search of the main lab.

"Major," Beckett's urgent whisper called from an open doorway, "in here."

Stepping in to the darkened room, lit only by the doctor's waving flashlight beam, Sheppard grabbed Beckett's arm and flipped off the light. "What do you think you're doing? Keep your light low and pointed only towards the floor. We don't need anyone passing by and seeing your little light show up here."

Hearing the doctor, Weir, Teyla, and Stackhouse followed behind the major into the room. From the hall light spilling through the doorway, it was clear that they had entered the room matching the images of the crime scene. As Sheppard had predicted, the bloodstains from the floor were gone and the room had been returned to its pristine condition.

Making his way to Dr. Mika's desk, the major whispered to the rest of the crew, "Okay, people, let's fan out and find what they've missed."

It was Stackhouse who discovered the first anomaly. Recalling the images he'd memorized from what Noda had shown them, he found where a cabinet had been pushed recently across the floor, leaving fresh scuff marks. Also, a frame had been returned to its place on the wall that had not been visible in the images. With Sheppard's help, the sergeant was able slide the cabinet away from the wall so that Beckett could get a closer inspection.

Watching the Scotsman scrutinize the cupboard, Sheppard grew impatient at the man's silence. "Find anything?"

Beckett glanced back to the others in the dim lighting and grimaced. "Aye, there's blood here." Pointing to a small dent on the edge, he carefully adjusted his light so that the others were able to see a small area of dried reddish brown. Standing back, he glanced towards Teyla and Weir, "How tall would you say the doctor was, Major?"

"She was close to Dr. Weir's height, but heavier."

Holding out his hand, the physician gestured towards Elizabeth, "Doctor, would you mind steppin' over here? Turn around with your back to the cabinet." With her in place, they noticed that her neck was in line with the edge, similar to the small dent and blood spatter.

"Okay," Sheppard began to theorize out loud, "Let's say who ever _did_ kill her, shoved the back of her head or neck against the edge of the cabinet. What was the cabinet doing away from the wall in the first place?"

Five sets of eyes studied the cabinet before going to the wall behind it. Above the cabinet hung a framed image of Dr. Mika smiling, surrounded by her colleagues, accepting some sort of an award. The inscription beneath was a series of numbers.

Sheppard plucked the frame from the wall and went back over to her desk. Sitting in the chair, he studied the contents before he smiled, finding what he was looking for. Flipping a metal ring containing numbers similar to the award, he grinned up to the others. "It's a date from not too long ago. According to her calendar, she got that less than two weeks before we got here."

"McKay told Commander Noda that a large man pushed past him in the hallway, coming from the lab," Weir said, taking the image from the major. "What if the man in the picture wasn't too happy about whatever this is for, and came to see her? Things got out of hand and he went to grab this, pushing the cabinet out of the way to reach it."

Sheppard continued, following Weir's pattern, "Mika gets angry and tries to stop him. He shoves her and she hits the cabinet," Turning to Carson, he gives the doctor a questioning look. "Could she have died by hitting her head?"

"Aye, he could have broken her neck or fractured her skull."

Popping the frame open, the major removed the photo, placing it in his pack. "I say we take this to McKay and see if he recognizes anyone."

Quickly going over the room one final time, the group returned the cabinet and frame to their rightful positions before slipping back down the hallway to the stairwell. Almost to the main floor, they all came to an abrupt halt when they felt the steps begin to shake. Grabbing the handrail, they raced the final few steps and made their way towards the side exit. Safely outside, away from the building, they stopped and stared at their surroundings.

Zipping his jacket tighter to ward off the cold night air, Beckett was the first to voice what they all were thinking, "Was that an earthquake?"

Sheppard nodded, watching as people began to appear out in the streets, wondering what had just happened. "Yeah. I think we need to go back to the security building and check on McKay."

SG: A

_A hand roughly grabbed McKay by his good arm. "Come on," an unknown voice demanded. "We're getting out of here."_

Rodney didn't have to be told twice. Grabbing the few items Carson had left, he followed the impatient tug on his sleeve. Stumbling blindly behind the other man in the dark, they made their way down the hallway, bumping in to other prisoners warily leaving their cells. The air was filled with voices calling out to one another, uncertain as to what they should do; flee or stay.

When another ominous vibration shook the building, Rodney flattened himself against the wall, standing still and counting.

"What makes the building move?" the now anxious unseen voice from his cell whispered.

"Seismic tremors." When the man remained quiet, waiting for more of an explanation, Rodney gave the man a small push to get them moving again. "An earthquake. Not a bad one, actually. Felt like a 5, maybe a 5.5 on the Richter scale. Haven't you ever felt one before?"

"No," the man whispered back. "I'm not from here."

"Lucky you," Rodney muttered, wishing he could see the other man. His curiosity piqued, he slowed his step briefly, "Not from here, the city, or not from here, Pennatroca?"

"Yes," the voice replied.

The two men neared the end of the long passageway, glancing cautiously around the corner to the glowing lift in the middle of the hallway junction. Emergency power had kicked on inside the small elevator and sealed the doors from escaping prisoners; some of whom had already reached it and were trying unsuccessfully to pry the doors open.

Intently studying their surroundings with the little light available, Rodney was momentarily irritated when the stranger tugged on his arm again, bringing them both back into the shadows. "We need to change," the man said quietly as he pointed to several uniformed guards headed towards their direction.

For the first time, Rodney turned and squinted at the figure beside him. Yes, it was the man from across the hall. Similar in height and build to the Atlantis physicist, the stranger carried himself with the confidence of Major Sheppard. "Who are you?"

The stranger turned to look at him, giving him the look to be quiet, before he reached out with his arm and flattened them both back against the wall. A guard turned the corner and never even knew what happened, dropping silently to the ground as Rodney's 'partner' incapacitated him with a hit to the head and dragged him back to the shadows.

Quickly stripping off the uniform, he thrust it towards Rodney as he returned to his position along the wall. Within moments, a second guard fell to his tactics and was also relieved of his clothing. Now dressed to blend in, they cautiously made their way to the lift.

"Wait." Rodney stopped, glancing about, "I need to leave a message for my team." Unscrewing the small white cap from the water bottle, he hastily finished the contents before crushing it and stuffing it in a pocket. Rolling the lid between his fingers, he tried to figure where he could put it that the major would most likely find it. Items were already littering the floor from the prisoners escape attempts and the pristine neatness of the Pennatrocan jail now was a mess. There really was only one place…inside the lift. Nodding towards the clear elevator, they began to move.

Their escape was easier than either man could have imagined. With guards trying to organize the chaos of prisoners moving freely within the facility and the only power available was to the lifts, they were ushered aboard without being questioned. While the other man activated the controls, Rodney studied the inside of the car before dropping the cap and kicking it to the corner of the floor beneath the main panel. With any luck, the small object wouldn't be noticed until after the disarray of the main floors was thoroughly cleaned.

Several other guards from different floors exchanged places with those on the lift as it stopped periodically on the way down. Rodney stayed inconspicuously in the back, avoiding making eye contact while the stranger stood in the front. Reaching the main floor, they exited with the other guards.

It almost seemed too simple, their escape. Once outside the heavy front doors, they continued walking with purpose down the street filled with bewildered pedestrians.

Rounding the corner to a darkened alley, the stranger pushed McKay against the wall and eyed him critically. "You were ill earlier."

"Yes, but my friends helped me out." Still not quite certain what to think of the stranger, McKay wasn't about to give out more information than necessary. The remnants of his migraine had almost diminished and the ache in his arm was now a dull throb. Fingering the blister pack and power bars in his pocket, he wondered where his teammates might be.

"Come," the man directed once more, tugging McKay towards the other end of the dark alley.

Never one to do as he was told, the scientist dug in is heels and stood his ground. "Don't get me wrong, I appreciate your help, but I think I'd like to go find the rest of my friends. Plus, you know, I don't know your name. I've got this thing, ever since I was a little kid, about following strangers down dark alleys in the middle of the night. Maybe we could meet up tomorrow after lunch. "

Dark eyes pierced McKay, clearly expressing irritation at the talkative scientist. "I can get you to your friends, but we must go now."

Taking a couple steps backwards towards the main street, Rodney shook his head 'no'. "I don't think so."

The stranger stood and watched the retreating scientist. Knowing he needed the other man's help if he was ever to leave this forsaken planet, he made a decision. "Grose."

Rodney paused in mid-step, not quite sure he heard the other man correctly. "Excuse me? Gross?"

Shifting slightly to stand more in cast off light from the street lamps, the man nodded. "My name is _Grose_ and I'm not of this world. I'm an explorer, like you, from the other side of the gate."

TBC

A/N Sorry for the delay in posting but I've had a wicked case of writer's block. I know that never happens to any of you… riiiight. The good news is, I'm back on track! Thanks again to my wonderful betas Mary and Elyse, and to all of you who post comments. See you soon! Jen


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Rodney studied Grose, deciding whether or not to believe him. All similarities between the two ended past height and build; the other man's chiseled features held the air of authority, of a leader. And now, here they were standing in a dark alley, freezing in the middle of the night after breaking out of jail, after two small earthquakes, and this superhero from who knows where wants to lead them back to his friends. He rolled his eyes and snorted in disgust. Crap like this could only happen to one Rodney McKay.

With his internal alarm bell ringing like a five alarm fire, he assumed the arrogant position that initially pushed Sheppard over the edge when they first met. Deciding to give the man a brief chance to explain before he made a break for it to find his friends on his own, he crossed his arms, tucking his hands in his armpits and raising a challenging brow. "If _you are_ an explorer, and to be quite frank I don't know if you are one or not, why were you in jail?"

Grose glanced about, checking to make certain that they were alone before he took a step closer to Rodney, who in return backed up another step. "We were…"

"_We_? We? You mean there's more than one of you here? Where are you from? What are you doing here?" The Atlantis scientist began pacing. "Of course I'm not really surprised, I mean why should I be, we aren't the only ones who know how to use the gate." Stopping mid-rant, he eyed Grose. "Well?" he huffed.

A hint of a smile crossed over the explorer's face. He had spent a good portion of the afternoon and evening watching the scientist from across the hall. The man's teammates unwavering compassion spoke multitudes to the stranger, letting him know that however boisterous he may be, he was someone important. All signs of the earlier illness that had plagued the man appeared to have diminished.

"My team and I have been on Pennatroca for a little over a two month period." Pausing when the scientist opened his mouth to interrupt before apparently changing his mind, Grose continued, "When it became evident that some of the science community was becoming suspicious of our work we decided that it was time to return to our home world. Unfortunately, Commander Noda intercepted two of my teammates when we were leaving and decided to take them to the security center for questioning." Beginning to walk towards the back end of the alley, Grose never looked behind to see if Rodney followed. "I couldn't let that happen, so I intercepted them. They escaped and I got caught."

Rodney mindlessly watched his breath vaporize. Listening Grose's tale, he realized that it was possible the man was telling him the truth. But why did his team leave him behind? Major Sheppard would never leave a member of his own team behind and vice versa. He'd already been to the security station twice to check on the scientist… and was most likely on his way once more since the small quakes hit.

Glancing down the alley to the almost invisible form of Grose, hidden in the shadows, Rodney made a decision. He needed to leave another sign for the major. Searching his pockets, he felt the crumpled plastic of the water bottle. Perfect. Pointing it carefully in the direction they were heading on a clean, ornate edge of a widow sill, he stood back and glanced at the front entrance of the passageway for one last check. With no sign of his friends, he turned and hustled after Grose, falling in step at his side.

SG: A

The Atlantis team stood together inside the front foyer of the Security Building and watched the bustling mad house. It was clear that something important had happened when the power suddenly clicked on and the lighting in the building returned to its former blaring brightness. Some guards were escorting inmates back to their cells while others were attempting to organize cleaning crews.

The rumpled guard at the front desk eyed the strangers warily. "You must leave," he informed them, before he glanced back down at a blinking panel and frowned.

Sheppard casually glanced over the desk to see if he might be able to catch a glance of their friend, but the guard was shifting the screens through several rooms and hallways, apparently looking for something. "Can you at least show us Dr. McKay, so that we can see that he's alright?"

Not at all happy with whatever it was that he was looking for, the man ground his teeth together in irritation, before tapping several icons, bringing to view an empty cell. His head shot up to stare accusingly at the small group of offworlders. "He has yet to be returned to his cell."

Sheppard's brow raised, a slight smile quirking the corner of his mouth, "You saying you lost him or he's just roaming around somewhere in the building?"

Clearing his throat, the man behind the counter grimaced, "All but two prisoners have been accounted for."

Dr. Weir stepped beside the major and glanced at the screen. "Who else is missing?"

The man tapped the icons again, bringing up a view of the hall where Rodney had been kept, before panning to the empty cell across the way. The screen showed the damaged panel and blackened wall. Two men in jumpsuits carrying toolboxes entered the room to begin repairs, effectively blocking their view.

"Can you put it back on the cell where Dr. McKay had been held?" Sheppard asked.

The cell appeared once more and the group leaned against the counter for a better look, searching for any sign or message that Rodney may have left for them. There was nothing visible except for the rumpled blanket lying on the floor.

Elizabeth reached out and tapped the screen. "How do we know this is Dr. McKay's cell? You could be showing us anything." When the guard stared at her in contempt, she coolly stood straight and gave him her iciest glare, "I want the major to be given access to inspect the Doctor's room. I also want to know where my missing scientist is. Am I correct in assuming that you have some sort of surveillance equipment in this facility?"

"I'm sorry, Dr. Weir," Commander Noda's voice snapped from behind them, "but until we restore order, I must insist that you leave."

She didn't even pause, smoothly shifting to position herself between Major Sheppard and the director. With Noda's attention focused on her, she moved again to stand beside Stackhouse, leaving the major behind the small man. With the tiniest hint of a nod to her second in command, she began to drill the small man with insignificant questions concerning his security, drawing his attention away from Sheppard slipping away and the others filling in to close the gap.

SG: A

Sheppard knew he admired that woman for good reason as he cautiously made his way through the throng of people, towards the lift. He wasn't entirely certain how she expected him to make it back up to Rodney's cell, but she had given him the first step.

Watching the clear car slowly descend with another load of guards, he studied each of their positions. When it stopped at the floor above him and the individuals on board exited, momentarily leaving the car empty before filling with more personnel, a small object in the corner caught his eye. Son of a gun!

The lift, descending to the lobby came to a stop and the doors opened. Pretending to fix his bootlaces, Sheppard kneeled to get a better look before standing up and making his way back to the rest of the crew. Catching Weir's eye, he nodded.

She shifted, giving Noda a false look of resignation and sighed, "Fine. We'll return in the morning. I expect answers." Letting the other man think he'd won, she gestured for her team to follow her as she made her way back out of the building. Once clear of the main front doors she spun around, facing Sheppard and stopping the others in their tracks, "Well?"

A full grin lit up the major's face and his eyes twinkled in the darkness, "He's not there."

Beckett glanced between the two, wondering what he'd missed. "What do you mean? How'd he get out?"

"That I don't know, but he left us a sign that he was on the lift." Slapping the doctor on the back, Sheppard motioned for them to start walking. "You left him the water bottle, didn't you?"

"Aye."

"The cap's in the lift."

The group paused before they all broke out in smiles, shaking their heads in disbelief.

"The Amazing McKay strikes again," Sheppard smirked. "Now all we have to do is find him." Glancing about the small group, he nodded to the sergeant, "You and Teyla go east, we'll go west. Maintain radio silence until you find him or another breadcrumb."

When they nodded, he shouldered his pack tightly across his back, "Be careful. There's already been two quakes tonight so stay out of buildings when at all possible. And remember Noda isn't stupid, he's going to be looking, too."

SG: A

Rodney walked silently beside Grose as they made their way through the streets, back in the direction of the Jumper. Tired, cold, and hungry, he knew complaining wouldn't help but the return of the headache had to be dealt with before he was no longer able to travel.

"Grose, I need to take a break." Sitting on a deserted stoop, he pulled one of his remaining power bars from his pocket and broke it in half, offering part to the other man. Slowly chewing to savor the familiar flavor, he closed his eyes for a moment. A brief touch to his shoulder roused him from near sleep.

"Are you in pain?" Grose's concerned eyes examined Rodney, and when the scientist slowly nodded, the explorer sat down beside him. "It's the water."

Rodney popped two more pills from the blister pack, dry swallowing them. "I figured as much. What's in it?"

"We weren't certain, but one of my crew had a similar reaction to yours. We believe some sort of naturally occurring mineral is deposited in it from the underground thermal vents, contaminating the water. The Pennatrocans have built up a natural tolerance. Unfortunately, someone not acclimated to its effects has an unpleasant experience."

"To put it mildly," Rodney grumbled, allowing his eyes to close again.

Grose stood up, gently helping the tired man back to his feet by lifting on his uninjured arm. "We must keep moving. With so many people outdoors because of the quake, we don't want to rouse any suspicions. I believe we should make it back to your friends soon."

Something about the way Grose insisted that they get back to his friends irked Rodney. He didn't know why, but he knew he needed to remain cautious. The stranger had yet to be very forthcoming about why he was on Pennatroca. Tucking the foil wrapper eye-level in an ornamental bush, he stopped to rub some warmth back into his cold arms before making his way to Grose's side.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The early morning sun sifted through the empty trees, making the frost on the leaf littered ground sparkle like diamonds. Trudging wearily out of the forest into the hidden meadow containing the cloaked Jumper, the team from Atlantis spirits picked up considerably at the sight of two sets of footprints headed straight towards the small crafts location.

"Honey, we're home," Sheppard called out, his breath misting in front of his face. Spying movement, he trained his P90 towards two figures dressed in guard uniforms, emerging from the dense growth opposite the ship. Haggard wasn't even strong enough of a word to describe his missing friend; McKay looked downright miserable. Clicking the safety back on his weapon, he nodded, "I see you brought a friend home for breakfast. Don't you remember, I told you to call and check first to make sure it was okay? What if your mom and I had plans?"

"Oh, uh, sorry," McKay quipped, with fake indignation. The missing man's arched brow and stifled half-smile was all it took to undo the others. Dropping their packs, they gathered around Rodney, filling the air with non-stop questions, while reaching out to touch his face or arms to make sure he was really there.

Rodney's abnormally short one and two word answers kicked the Scotsman into doctor mode. With a firm grip around the scientist's waist, Carson gently steered the wavering man towards the open rear hatch of the Jumper. He could feel the fine tremors of exhaustion rippling underneath his hand as muscles on the verge of collapse twitched. Bearing more of the tired man's weight,he asked softly, "How are you doin', lad? Still have the headache?"

"Came back with a vengeance," Rodney hissed under his breath. Swallowing the saliva that wouldn't stop, his pale blue eyes squinted to meet Carson's gaze, "I'd really like to lie down." Sheppard's silent appearance and assistance on his other side was met with a sigh of appreciation. "Grose helped me …," he whispered before swallowing again, his eyes no longer open. "Got me here."

"I know," the major said reassuringly. "Dr. Weir's talking with him now." Meeting Beckett's concerned gaze over the scientist's lowered head, he raised a questioning brow.

The physician nodded towards an empty bench inside the Jumper. "Give me a bit and then I'll let you know," he said quietly, reaching for his bag.

With nothing left to do but get in the way, Sheppard patted Rodney on the knee before joining Weir and the others in their discussion with the stranger.

Carson pushed up Rodney's damp sleeve, wrapping the BP cuff around his friend's cold arm, and pumped, watching the numbers first rise, then fall, and settle. 'A little low,' he thought to himself. Next, the thermometer he had to hold in place so as not to slip out; beeped, registering an elevated temperature. "When did you eat last?" he casually asked while checking Rodney's tender shoulder, eliciting a small groan from the man when he raised the arm away from his side.

The slow rise and fall of Rodney's chest paused briefly before he mumbled, "Half a bar for breakfast."

Nodding, the doctor removed a dry uniform and blanket from the overhead compartment. Rodney barely even registered Carson helping him change until the doctor gently pushed him to lie down, draping him with the blanket. "How about yesterday, lad, what did you eat?"

"Breakfast," he mumbled, sleep heavily pressing into his consciousness. "Power bar…" Soft breathing emanated from the still figure.

Carson sat back on his heels, studying his friend for a moment before removing a small instrument from his bag, using it to prick Rodney's finger. Wiping the resulting drop of blood on a test strip, he inserted it in to the handheld monitor to check his glucose level. With a quiet sigh, he setup an IV, adjusting the output. Rodney never even stirred.

"How is he?" Dr. Weir inquired softly, coming to stand beside the physician.

The Scotsman hadn't heard her enter and looked up in surprise. "He'll be alright once he rests and we get his levels straightened out."

She reached out and straightened the blanket that had slipped off Rodney's chest, "Did he say anything about what happened?"

"No. It's goin' to be a good 6-8 hours before he even begins to wake back up." Glancing towards the front of the Jumper, Carson then looked to Weir. "Who is the fella that helped him? He looks like the inmate from the security center."

"He is. Sheppard and Stackhouse are giving him the third degree, trying to figure out if his story is true."

"What story is that?"

Dr. Weir crossed her arms and scowled, "Mr. Grose claims he came through the Stargate."

SG: A

Major Sheppard sat in one of the front passenger seats facing the seated stranger, "So Gross…"

"_Grose_," the explorer corrected.

"Grose," the major said, letting the name settle with a smile. "Why do you need our help? Why didn't your crew try to return and come and get you?"

Sitting up straight, Grose rolled his neck and shoulders. "I no longer am in possession of my communication device. Even if I made it to the gate, I have no way of contacting my home world."

"Yeah, I can see how that would suck. What makes you think we can help you contact them?"

The stranger glanced about the interior of the ship. "You appear to have the technology that I need."

Sheppard nodded, his hazel eyes never leaving Grose's face. "What were you doing here on Pennatroca?"

"Geological survey. An advance team discovered a thermal anomaly underneath the city."

"You're telling me, you came here from another planet to check out an underground anomaly?"

Grose nodded and then frowned, "Major, why are you asking me all these questions?"

"Oh, I don't know. I'm a curious kind of guy." Seeing Beckett move in the rear of the Jumper, he now had a clear view of Rodney sleeping. It was time to head back to Atlantis. Returning his attention to Grose, he decided to lay his cards on the table, "You seemed to get our friend out of jail pretty easily, you say your team left you behind, and now you want our help. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for your help, but I don't believe your anomaly story."

The explorer remained silent.

Rising to his feet, Sheppard unfolded his arms, placing one hand on the back of Grose's seat, "I need to have a word with Dr. Weir. Teyla will stay and keep you company until I return."

SG: A

Weir was waiting for him on the other side of the doorway. "So?"

"So… I wouldn't want to play poker with this guy. He has a thing for bluffs." Sitting on the bench across from Rodney, Sheppard looked over to Beckett, "How is he?"

The doctor smiled tiredly from his seat next to Rodney, "Exhausted. He'll be fine once we get him home and let him rest."

"Yeah, I think we all could go for a nap; it's been a long 24 hours." Turning to face Weir, he patted the empty seat beside himself, "Sit down before you fall down, doc." Watching her settle, he then checked to see if Grose was listening. The explorer appeared to be having a relaxed conversation with Teyla. 'Good for her,' he thought, knowing the woman was cunning and would glean more information from their unsuspecting guest.

"I say we notify Ford and have a security detail on standby. Grose can come with us but has restricted access until we can get him home…if we can get him home."

Weir nodded, "I agree. We've been gone from Atlantis long enough. Now that we have McKay, we don't need to stay any longer."

Sheppard tapped his radio, notifying the sergeant out walking the perimeter. "Stackhouse, anything on your end?"

"_Negative, sir. Nice and quiet."_

"Good. Come back, we're heading home."

"_Understood."_

"So," Sheppard pulled himself to his feet and stifled a yawn, "do you want to tell our guest, or shall I, that he gets to come with us?"

Dr. Weir tipped her head back and smiled, allowing her eyes to close. "You're the driver. Take us home, James," she said, stretching her legs out over the major's vacated seat.

SG: A

The two-hour trip home had been uneventful and it came as no surprise that Ford had both a medical and security team waiting on the arrival of the Jumper. The travelers disbanded, each agreeing to regroup in another two hours to debrief. It didn't have to be said; the meeting would take place in the infirmary.

Sheppard made certain that their guest was properly accommodated, security detail included, before he trudged back to his quarters for an invigorating shower and then a quick trip to the mess hall. He was anxious to check in on McKay, so he only grabbed a sandwich, and then went in search of Beckett.

"Hey, Doc," he called out, a mouth full of bread muffling his greeting.

Beckett looked up from his desk and shook his head. "Major, you're early."

"I thought I'd come in and check on our convict." Popping another bite of sandwich in his mouth, he made his way through the dimly lit ward, stopping by its only patient. Seeing that McKay was still asleep, he looked for the nearest place to sit, finally collapsing into an uncomfortable plastic chair. Shifting several times and discovering that there was truly no way to get comfortable, he looked up, hearing Beckett chuckle from beside him. "What?"

"You know why it's so bloody uncomfortable?"

"I can only guess. So unsuspecting visitors become patients after their backs and legs become so painfully twisted that they admit themselves just to get the comfort of a hard mattress."

"Keep it up, lad, and I'll let you test your theory personally."

"You don't scare me." Seeing a mischievous sparkle in Carson's eyes, Sheppard stepped to the opposite side of Rodney's bed. "Okay, maybe you do a little."

Putting his hands on the bed behind him, Beckett hoisted himself up on the mattress so that his feet could swing freely above the floor. "It's over an hour before the meeting, Major. You really should rest."

"I'm not tired." Wandering amongst the beds, he found a slightly padded chair and placed it on the other side of McKay, away from Beckett. Sitting, he stretched his legs out.

"Ah, is that so?" Beckett shifted sideways, putting his feet up and leaned back. Fluffing the pillow behind his head, he closed his eyes. "If you're plannin' on stayin' up, wake me when everyone else gets here. I could go for a bit of shuteye, myself." Soon, only the sound of gentle breathing filled the room.

Shifting in his seat, Sheppard crossed his arms and watched the two men, feeling his eyelids slowly droop. Snapping his head up for the third time when it hit his chest, he quietly stood and made his way to sit on the empty bed beside him. A quick glance to make sure the others were truly asleep; he leaned back and let his eyes close. 'Okay, the mattress isn't that hard,' he thought to himself. Within moments, soft snores could be heard.

Carson lay perfectly still on his bed, a small smile spreading across his face. He knew the major better than the man gave him credit. Opening one eye to check on his charges, he sighed, happy to see both men now resting peacefully. Closing his own eyes once more, he drifted off to sleep.

An hour later, Dr. Weir entered the infirmary, followed by Teyla and Stackhouse. Spying the three sleeping individuals, she shooed the others back out into the hallway. "I think this can wait awhile longer." Making plans to meet later, she watched the departing figures before silently slipping back into the darkened room. Picking up blankets stored on the end of the beds, she spread one over Beckett and another over Sheppard before placing her hand lightly on Rodney's hair. How these three would ever survive without the other, was beyond her.

"Pleasant dreams," she said softly, letting the door close quietly behind her.

TBC

A/N Say it with me now…Awwww… they are just so cute when they're sleeping. I'm far from ending this story; I'm just giving our guys a little break before things really get going again!


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The discussion over Rodney's impromptu incarceration and ensuing jailbreak made valuable fuel for ribbing the scientist throughout the team's debriefing. Several times, Dr. Beckett found himself pounding a back or handing over a glass of water to help stop choking, induced by laughing too hard with a mouthful of food by one of the members. It wasn't until Major Sheppard grew quiet, drawing away from the others and pacing, that the tone of the conversation returned to the seriousness of the situation.

"So he just breaks out and decides to take you along for the ride? I don't buy it, McKay. It all seems too easy." Sheppard's half-eaten dinner forgotten, he leaned against the foot of Rodney's bed to meet the scientist's intense gaze. "How did Grose know about the panel? And, which line to cut? I mean, hell, even you can't do that."

"And," Dr. Weir interjected, coming to stand beside the major, "if he and his team _were _on the planet for over a month, what were they interested in that they took that much time to investigate? I might not be a geologist, but even I think that is a bit excessive. I can't imagine allowing an offworld team that much exposure."

His eyes narrowed, Rodney appeared to stare at a fixed point on the opposite wall, while sorting the events in his mind. An unconscious swallow signaling that he was finished, he shifted to meet their gaze. "He said he'd never felt an earthquake before."

The group exchanged glances before Beckett spoke up, "Well, maybe they don't happen where he's from?"

"I don't think so." A quick toss of the blanket and Rodney pushed himself off the mattress, his bare feet slapping on the floor, as he made his way to Beckett's computer. "When I was with Dr. Mika, she showed me a documented history of tremors that had been occurring for over the past month. When I asked her if the activity was normal, she said 'no'." He punched several keys, stopping when the display shifted, presenting a graph of spikes and dips. Catching the look of disbelief, he shrugged, "What? I save all my data on a backup system I keep in the jumper. I downloaded it once Carson let me up from my nap."

The Scotsman shrugged with a grin before the major leaned over to examine the display closer, "So, that's a history of the tremors?"

Rodney nodded, "And as you can clearly see, they started approximately two months ago."

Weir settled her hip on the corner of the desk, her lips drawn in a thin line, "The same time Grose told us he and his team began investigating the anomaly."

From her position just inside Beckett's office doorway, Teyla spoke up,"What about the picture you removed from Dr. Mika's office?."

Rodney glanced about at the others, "What picture?"

"When we went back to the science center to check out Mika's lab, we found a picture of her receiving some award." Sheppard rummaged through his pack he'd brought by earlier. Removing the water bottle and used power bar wrapper first, he grinned at McKay, "Thanks for the trail, by the way. Although stuck in a bush? You really expected one of us to find that there?"

Rodney shrugged, a quirk of a smile resting on his lips. "I didn't see any trash cans, so I left it for you."

"Yeah, well you can thank Teyla for finding that one." Reaching into the front compartment, he pulled out the photo and passed it to Rodney. "Look familiar?"

"Yes. Apparently, there was a recent discovery of…" Rodney stopped, his brow furrowing as he studied the picture. Looking up to meet the others concerned expressons, he pointed to a man standing behind Dr. Mika, "That's him."

Sheppard plucked the picture back, "Him, who?"

"The man who I heard arguing with Dr. Mika. When I went back to her office to pick up my datapad, he practically knocked me over in his rush to leave."

"Well, he was there when she got the award. Do you know what theit was for?"

Remnants of his trip plagued Rodney, making standing tiresome and he looked for a place to sit. When he moved to take Beckett's chair, the good doctor intercepted him, steering the scientist back towards his bed. "Now, Rodney, you should rest. Whatever you need, we'll get for you."

The others followed and waited silently until he was situated comfortably, leaning against the upraised back of the bed.

"With out getting too technical for you and sending you all into mind numbing shock, I'll try to spare you most of the science. Her award was for discovering the 'dirty' side of geothermal energy."

"Pennatroca uses Flash Plants to generate electricity. Now, using thermal energy is nothing new on Earth, and was used by the Romans to treat eye and skin disease, Pompeii to heat buildings, the native Americans used it to cook before it evolved to become a source of energy to heat cities, run factories. Many people thought they had found an alternative to coal-fired or atomic plants. But...the down side is that it's 'dirty'. There's thermal and chemical pollution."

"Dr. Mika discovered that they were actually poisoning the citizens with arsenic, lead, and mercury, to name a few of the elements. She presented an article and was awarded recognition for 'Saving the People'," Rodney air-quoted.

"And this guy in the picture," Sheppard probed curiously, "killed her because she discovered a way to help everyone?"

Rodney scratched his head in irritation, "Think about it, to find another form of energy is difficult, time consuming, and costly. Most don't understand that to continue their current usage at such high dependency is leading to trouble. Why inform the masses about the possibility of earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, and poisonous water runoff if they are currently ignorant of the dangers and reliant on their current system?"

"What Mika and I disagreed upon was the fact that they are injecting the waste water and toxins back into reservoirs located along the planetary fault lines. If they continue, the pressure between the plates will eventually shift, causing either said earthquake or volcanic eruption. They already have to deal with the polluted water systems." Leaning back, he closed his eyes to block out the overhead lights, stopping the return of the headache. "Or, he was her jilted lover."

Weir smiled as the others in the room chuckled softly. "So, we still don't know what Grose and his team were up to. I must admit I'm torn at the moment. Do I send him back to Pennatroca and just be grateful to have everyone here safe and accounted for, or do we allow him to think we have agreed to help him, and stop the Pennatrocans from destroying themselves?"

"I say we send him back with a boot print on his ass."

Teyla came to stand beside Weir, frowning at Sheppard's comment, "Major, how do you know that he was not also trying to help the Pennatrocans?"

"Because if he was, why didn't he say so in the first place?"

"Excuse me," Beckett quietly interrupted before the debate escalated any further, "why don't you continue this outside?" All eyes turned to look at the physician, finding him with his arms crossed, blocking their view of Rodney. "He's asleep. I'll release him in the mornin'. Until then, I suggest you continue your conversation elsewhere."

SG: A

Departing the infirmary, the group disbanded before Dr. Weir stopped Sheppard with a hand on his arm, "Major, would you care to join me in a chat with our guest?"

An uneasy feeling passed over him as he took in her look of determination. Some day this woman was going to get hurt if she wasn't careful. He nodded as she pulled her hand away, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Good." She turned and made her way down the hall, not looking to see if he was following.

Seeing her sidestep around individuals and head towards the guest quarters, he swore under his breath before catching up. "You've talked to him already, haven't you?"

Weir frowned at his tone, "As a matter of fact, I did, while you were sleeping earlier."

This time he was the one to grab her arm, bringing their movements to a halt, "Are you crazy? Did you have a guard with you?"

"Major, I know how to handle my own personal safety." Tugging her arm free, she shot him a withering look, "I had Lt. Ford accompany me."

"Look, I'm sorry, but we don't know who this guy is or what he wants. We almost lost McKay and we can't afford to take any chances." The look he got from her would have stopped most from continuing, but not him. "Elizabeth, he's dangerous."

"We don't know that for certain, Major. And until that time, I will speak with Mr. Grose when I deem necessary." Watching his features tighten in anger, she met his glare, "I can take care of myself." Nodding to the guard outside of the guest quarters, she touched the panel and let herself in.

"I hope you're right," Sheppard sighed, making to follow her. When she urgently called his name from the other side of the doorway, he quickly ducked inside, spotting Grose's body lying face down in the middle of the floor. "What happened?"

"He was that way when I came in." Dropping to her knees beside the still figure, she was surprised when Sheppard pulled her back.

"Go get Beckett," he ordered. Seeing her mouth open to protest, he held out his hand to stop her, "Now!" Rolling the stranger onto his back, Sheppard took in the man's sickly appearance. He was breathing, albeit slowly. 'Oh, crap.' "Come on Grose, wakey, wakey," he encouraged, patting the man's clammy face.

The stranger moaned, raising his hands to stop Sheppard. "Please," he gasped, his eyes scrunched in pain.

"Dr. Beckett's on his way. You just need to stay still until he gets here." Seeing the man nod slightly, Sheppard sat back on his heels. "What happened, Grose?"

"Headache," he mumbled.

'Yeah, I hear those are going around, right now."

"Major," Beckett's voice called from the doorway, before he came to kneel on the floor beside them, "what happened?"

"Headache, doc."

Removing his stethoscope, Beckett set to work on his newest patient. "Have you been sick, Mr. Grose?"

"No."

"Ingest anything since you came to Atlantis?" Wrapping the BP cuff, he checked the man's pressure, before tearing it off.

"No."

"How long have you been feelin' poorly?"

Grose swallowed, his eyes still tightly clamped shut, "Not long."

Carson looked up to meet Sheppard and Weir's concerned expressions, "I want to get him to the infirmary."

"Doc, do you think that's such a good idea?" Before Sheppard had the chance to continue, Grose rolled to his side and began to heave miserably.

"Aye, Major, I do." Motioning to the team in the hallway with the litter, Carson helped get Grose settled before whisking him away. Weir and Sheppard followed close behind.

"This day just keeps getting better and better," the major groaned.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Hands resting on top of his head, Carson tipped back in his chair to stare at the ceiling. As ornamental as Atlantis was, with ancient patterns and designs decorating the walls and doors, apparently to the long-gone architects a ceiling was still a ceiling and held nothing for a weary viewer to ponder. Stifling a yawn, he moved his hands to his neck to work out a kink in his tired muscles. Would this day never end?

A second yawn, one of the jaw-cracking ear-popping variety, spilled before he had the chance to stop it. Heavily weighted lids drooped shut, arms and hands made of rubber slipped bonelessly down, the tired physician allowed himself a few moments to rest until…

Beep. Beep.

'Ah, bloody hell. Not yet,' he mentally grumbled. Ignoring the persistent little noise, he allowed himself another five minutes.

Beep. Beep.

He _really_ wanted to ignore it. Every fiber of his being had reached the point of complete relaxation and he honestly believed that his muscles had achieved the consistency of jello. But, he knew that dreaded little tone and at least had to see who wanted his attention. Peeling open his left eye, he glared at the offending object that dared to disturb his slumber. There on his laptop screen, the mail message flashed. With a heavy sigh, he leaned forward, scrubbing his scruffy face and eyes in an attempt to bring the blurry letters back into formation.

A quick tap to the message box and the screen shifted to reveal the tox report on Grose. Carson leaned forward, his fatigue slipping away as he rapidly skimmed the pages. Flipping the screen back to Rodney's, he reread the Canadian's information. Abruptly standing up, his chair skidding backwards to hit the wall, he made his way out to the infirmary to check on his patients.

He got to Rodney's bedside first. The scientist lay asleep on his left side, facing the doctor's office. His left arm jutting out from under the covers to hang in midair was so still that it looked like it belonged to a dead man. Slipping his fingers around the exposed wrist to check Rodney's pulse, Carson nodded in satisfaction before moving the arm back under the blanket. He was totally unprepared for his friend's startled reaction.

Rodney jolted off the opposite side of the bed, his eyes wide open but unfocused as he glanced about in panic. "Stay away from me," he hissed as he tried to untangle himself from his blanket, never taking his eyes off Beckett.

The Scotsman slowly held his hands up in the air and stepped back from the bed. "Rodney, it's me, Carson. I'm not going to hurt you, lad." Watching his friend become more agitated, he continued to speak softly, hoping to break through the nightmare. "Come on now, settle down. You're safe here on Atlantis."

Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, Carson spotted Aiden coming silently across the room to step up behind McKay. Damnit, he'd forgotten about the Lieutenant being posted to guard Grose. Sensing what the young man was about to do, he held his hand out to stop him. "No!"

Rodney spun around in surprise just as Ford flipped on the light above the bed. Pain pierced through his skull as the beam cut through his eyes like a drill. Grasping his head in agony, he collapsed to the floor. "Turn it off," he begged in a harsh whisper.

The Lieutenant instantly realized his mistake, snapping the switch back off, but the damage had already been done. Dr. Beckett brusquely shoved him aside, dropping to his knees beside the moaning scientist. When he reached out to help, the fiery ice blue eyes of the Scotsman stopped him cold.

"Get the major," he ordered before tuning back to Rodney. The scientist had grown quiet, his arms wrapped tightly about his chest with his head resting on his knees. "It was just a dream, lad. You're safe now."

"God, Carson," he mumbled, his voice shaking from the after affects of the adrenalin rush. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

Taking a seat on the cool floor beside his friend, the physician laid his hand on the nape of the anguished mans neck. He could feel taut muscles stiffen further at the contact but left it there. Eventually, Rodney's breathing evened out, his shoulders sagged when his brain informed the rest of his body that it was safe to relax.

Sheppard's quiet voice from beside them startled both men. "What happened?" A quick glance to the major showed that at least someone had been sleeping peacefully. Dressed in a rumpled t-shirt, pajama pants, and socks, his hair in more disarray than usual, he took up a position on the floor on the opposite side of the scientist.

Carson met his questioning gaze with a serious look of his own, "I accidentally spooked Rodney while he was dreamin'."

Shifting on the floor so that he could stretch out his legs, the major bumped shoulders with Rodney, trying to elicit some sort of response. "You must have been having one helluva dream, McKay, for the doc to send someone to come get me. What was Major Carter wearing this time?"

A soft chuckle escaped before Rodney could stop it, followed by a moan. "Don't make me laugh," he complained, untangling his arms so that he could rub his temples.

Carson pulled himself up to his feet, knowing he could briefly step out of the room since Sheppard was there to help keep an eye on their friend. "I'll get you somethin' for the headache. Don't go anywhere."

"Oh, like I suddenly had plans," came the muffled reply.

Silence settled over the dimly lit room as Sheppard glanced over his shoulder to Grose's still sleeping form. Whatever Beckett had slipped him earlier, really worked. "So, you want to tell me what the dream was about and why you don't want the lights on?"

Rodney drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he sat up straight and cautiously dared to look about. Meeting Sheppard's inquisitive gaze, he quickly shifted his attention to the bottom of the bed, "Iwasbackinthewhiteroom."

"Come again? A little slower this time, McKay. It's still early and I haven't had my coffee yet."

"I said, I was back in the white room. The lights kept getting brighter…" Rodney's voice grew quieter as he closed his eyes, reliving the events. "He kept asking questions, over and over. Never the same."

"Who did? Noda? What did he want to know?"

Rodney felt his mouth begin to water as the pounding inside his head increased. Swallowing, he fought back the urge to throw up. "He kept asking questions about…about…" Scrunching his face tightly, he mentally tried to grasp the fleeting images of the dream.

Sheppard reached out and gripped the scientists arm, pulling him out of his reverie. "It's all right, McKay, it was just a dream."

"No, no it wasn't." Rodney licked his lips as flashes of memories tugged at his consciousness. Tipping his head sideways, he shifted to meet the major's gaze, a look of disbelief covering his features, "He knew."

"What did he know, Rodney?"

Rodney's blue eyes darted back and forth; staring into Sheppard's concerned green ones, "He _knew_ I didn't kill her."

The major let out a small breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. _Son of a …. _The overwhelming desire to physically remove the little bastard's head from his shoulders flooded every fiber of Sheppard's being. "Then what did he want?"

"Major," Beckett interrupted, placing several items on a side table. "Could you help me get Rodney back up on the bed?"

"I can do it," Rodney protested, although secretly appreciative of the man's assistance.

"Sit," the doctor ordered, not giving the scientist the opportunity to balk while he swabbed Rodney's upper arm before plunging a needle into the soft tissue. "This is only Imitrex; it'll help your headache." Completed, he stood back and surveyed his patient. "Once that kicks in, I want you to take a long shower."

Slumped on the uncomfortable mattress, he grew wary at the doctor's request, "Why?"

Knowing the Canadian's overreaction to bad news, Carson tried to downplay his news by attempting to appear casual, resting against the side of the bed. "When I came in earlier to check on you and Grose, I had just gotten the lab results from your blood and urine tests. You both were exposed to inorganic arsenic."

What little color had remained in Rodney's face drained, leaving him pasty white. "Arsenic?" he whispered. "How badly were we exposed?"

Sheppard hopped onto the bed beside him, offering moral and physical support. "Take it easy, McKay. Give Beckett a chance to finish."

"Rodney, you're goin' to be fine. The IV fluids flushed whatever you may have come in contact with internally, out of your system, and the shower will wash off any remnants from your skin." Recognizing the telltale sign of quicksilver fear in his friend's eyes, he continued cautiously, "Going back on what you told us earlier, I investigated some of the samples that Teyla brought back. It's in their water, lad."

Rodney finally blinked, "I had a shower and drank a couple of glasses at the security building."

"I know. But like I said, you weren't exposed for a prolonged period of time, and you're goin' to be fine." Sighing, Carson rubbed his face. "Your headaches are most likely from a combination of your exposure along with the stress of your incarceration and interrogation."

"Doc," Sheppard asked as he picked up the set of scrubs off the bottom of the bed, "what about Gross and the rest of the Pennatrocans?"

"Mr. Grose's exposure appears to be longer than Rodney's. He'll need to see a doctor. As for the others," Carson shrugged, shaking his head, "I don't know. Unless they change some of their practices, I can't imagine that their prognosis would be good."

Sheppard grimaced. He really didn't care for the Pennatrocans, but he didn't want to have to live with the knowledge that he knew they were poisoning themselves to death and he could have helped them. Taking a hold of Rodney's arm, he tugged, "Come on, you've got an appointment with a shower."

Sliding off the mattress to land on his feet, Rodney scowled, grabbing the scrubs, "Thank you, Major, but I think I can do this on my own." Turing to head out, he was stopped by Carson's arm on his.

"How's the headache?"

Closing his eyes, he took inventory, pleasantly surprised to discover that the pain was diminishing quickly. "Almost gone."

"Good. Major, when he's finished, make sure he finds his way back here."

"Hey, I said I could take a shower on my own. I've been doing it for a long time."

"I heard you the first time, Rodney." Stepping towards the open door, he nodded, "I'm tired and I want to go to bed, so hurry up."

Sheppard ushered McKay towards the infirmary shower. "Taking showers by yourself for a long time, huh? Well, that explains a lot," he ribbed.

Rodney stopped and glared, "What are you talking about?"

Shoving the scientist into the cubicle, the major pulled the curtain closed and waited outside. "Well you know," he said loudly over the sound of running water, "sometimes when you _share_ a shower, you're a lot less stressed. If you know what I mean."

Rodney's dirty clothes sailed over the curtain to hit the major right on the head. "You know, Captain Kirk," he called out as he soaped up his wash cloth, "someday some little space nymph is going to leave you in a lot more than hot water."

Sheppard grinned as he leaned back against the wall to wait. Yep, their mad scientist was on his way back to being his normal snippy self.

TBC

A/N Thanks for the reviews and for Gaffer's beta help on this chapter. I know this story is trudging along, but I think it's time to go back to the planet and kick Noda's butt. Don't you? Little weasel… Oh, and take care of Grose… And, uh, fix the planet… And, well **yeah**, whump on the boys just a little! Guess I have a ways to go! ;)


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Dr. Weir sat, strategically, at the head of the conference table, carefully studying the team members seated around her: Ford, Teyla, Stackhouse, Sheppard, Beckett, and McKay. A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, it was good to have them all safe at home. Now came the hard part, deciding the next step.

Should she allow the team to return to the planet in hopes of repairing the damage the Pennatrocans were inflicting upon themselves? She mused. What about Rodney? The man's accused of murder. Of course, he's the only one who knows what to do. And, Major Sheppard? He'd made his feelings concerning Commander Noda quite clear during their private meeting after breakfast. Once Rodney revealed the events that had occurred at the security building, the major had gone ballistic. And that's where Beckett entered the picture. Glancing towards the Scotsman, she watched him watching McKay and Sheppard, willingly placing himself as a buffer between the two as their discussion became more heated. His quick glance in her direction, followed by a wink and a nod toward the others, made her decision easier. It was there all along.

Straightening in her seat with her hands wrapped around the warmth of her coffee mug, she interrupted the fiery conversation flowing about her. "Major." The leadership in her soft voice brooked no further chatter, drawing the room to quiet as each member turned to face her. Each recognized the look that as of a direct result of their debate, a decision had come to head.

"Elizabeth," his steady gaze met hers until a loose tuft of dark hair fell across his brow, apparently freed during all of his hand waving in the air in front of Rodney's face to exaggerate some point.

"We are missing the one individual in this discussion who may be able to shed some light on this situation. Would you please have Mr. Grose escorted here."

A protest formed instantly upon his lips, although wisely contained. Shifting to his left, he nodded to Ford, "He's still in the med lab."

"Yes, sir," the young lieutenant replied, promptly departing the room.

Turning back to face Weir, Sheppard was unprepared for her challenge as she raised one brow in expectation. "I might not be much of a poker player, Major, but I do understand what it means to bluff. I believe our guest has been holding out on us and I can only come up with two reasons in doing so. Either, one, he knows he has something we need, or two, we have something he needs." She stood, making her way to the window overlooking the departure bay, collecting her thoughts, before returning to her seat. "Carson, you said Mr. Grose's exposure was more extensive than Rodney's, but had yet to reach the toxic stage. Do you believe that the amount in his system could be that of an exposure of no more than two months?"

"Aye, he knew about the water before we did. If he's been limiting his contact, it could be longer."

"I agree, but I don't think he has been." She faced Rodney next, his expectant expression waiting to see where she was headed. "The photograph from Dr. Mika's lab was dated a little over a month ago for her discovery. In all of your discussions with her, was it apparent to you that scientifically she was readily able to understand the concept of 'dirty' geothermal pollution?"

"No. While we were talking, one of her technicians arrived with a report concerning a plant problem involving clogged pipes and turbines. Anyone who understands how a flash system works would be familiar with the dissolved CO2 ions from steam forming sinters, eventually shutting down the flow. They were in the beginning stages of discovering how to solve this problem. There's no way they could have advanced to the point of regulating output safely."

"We came to the same conclusion, Dr. McKay," Grose interposed, standing in the doorway.

Elizabeth stood smoothly to her feet, pointing to an empty chair, "Mr. Grose, would you please join us?" Once the explorer was seated, she returned to her own. "I need some answers."

He nodded, sitting at attention; waiting for her to begin.

"Where's the rest of your team?"

The room remained silent as Grose stared at Dr. Weir. And being the diplomat that she was, she had caught the small hitch in his breathing at her question. Placing her palms flat on the table, she leaned forward, "Commander Noda would not do anything to jeopardize his position unless it was for personal gain. What would he gain by allowing you to escape along with Dr. McKay? And for that matter, what would you gain from Noda by escaping with Dr. McKay?"

Grose continued to remain silent; his expression hardened in a fashion Dr. Weir had seen before on her own second in command. That of a soldier protecting something or someone.

With the confidence that she was right, she asked the question she already knew the answer to. "Noda has your team, doesn't he?"

The room remained perfectly still, each member watching the stranger. At his slight nod, several gasps could be heard from around the table.

"Why in the hell didn't you say so in the first place?" Sheppard jumped to his feet, his fist pounding the table in a horrendous thump that had to have hurt. "That little…"

"Major," Weir snapped, although mentally agreeing, "sit down." With some semblance of order returned, she flipped her hands palm side up on the table in a sign of openness. "I think you should start at the beginning."

SG: A

Two teams, fully rigged and ready, stood inside the jumper bay waiting for Weir and Sheppard's final instructions. Loaded down with weapons and laptops, it was hard to distinguish the scientists from the soldiers.

Team 1 was for the recovery of Grose's people, led by Major Sheppard with Ford, Teyla, and Grose. They would breach the security building, locate and remove McKay's equipment, and safely escort Grose's team back to the jumper.

Team 2 was the science team, led by McKay, accompanied by Stackhouse, Zelenka, and Beckett. Their mission was to infiltrate the flash plant, repair the failing systems, and if possible, reroute the wastewater to a proper holding facility.

On paper, both plans appeared to be foolproof, but they all knew better. Commander Noda would be waiting for them, expecting some sort of retaliation.

"Okay, people," Sheppard called out from the top of the stairs before making his way down, "we know what we have to do." Stopping in front of Grose, he adjusted the shoulder strap to the man's P90, "Colonel, you ready?" The explorer, they had learned earlier, was an officer and team leader to his planet's offworld expedition teams. Why hadn't Sheppard been surprised? He grinned to himself, because Grose appeared to be cut from the same cloth as one Colonel Jack O'Neill. God help us all.

The Colonel returned the grin, a distinct sparkle in his eyes at the thought of retrieving his team and possibly causing harm to a certain little commander. "This is your show, Major Sheppard. Like you, I just want to get my crew and go home."

Sheppard nodded, "Good." With one final glance to the teams, he shook his head. This was about to get very interesting. "Alright, let's head 'em up and move 'em out!" Stepping out of the way, he grinned up to Weir, "Don't forget to leave the light on."

Taking up a position beside Grodin to watch their departure, she smiled. "See you soon. Drive safe."

And with that, Jumper One slipped smoothly through the gate.

SG: A

Rodney sat in the co-pilot seat staring, lost in thought, out the front of the jumper into the encompassing inky darkness of space. He could do this, no, he would do this. Major Sheppard and the others were counting on him. And, Noda would be at the Security Center. There wasn't much of a chance that he'd show up at the flash plant, was there? A shiver ran down his back.

"Hey, McKay," Sheppard leaned sideways in his seat, pretending to check part of the panel, "you alright?"

The scientist nodded stiffly, refusing to meet the major's gaze, "Yeah, I'm good."

"Good, then you can take over for a minute while I go talk to Stackhouse."

Rodney spun sideways in his seat, mouth gaping open in surprise. "Now?" he choked, his shock turning to annoyance when he realized what the major was up to.

Sheppard shrugged, a smile crinkling the corner of his eyes, "Sure, you need the practice and so does Beckett. I'll send him up to keep you company." Slipping out of his seat, he tugged on Rodney to slide over, "Remember, keep it between the lines."

Next thing he knew, Carson sat down beside him holding out an unwrapped power bar.

"Major Sheppard said you were goin' to give me some tips to flyin' the jumper."

Eyeing the food, the expectant Scotsman, and then the grinning Major standing in the doorway behind them, Rodney rolled his eyes and treated them with his best sneer of contempt, "Oh, joy." Gratitude washed over him though, as he settled back in the seat. This time he knew his friends wouldn't leave him alone.

SG: A

"Everyone knows what to do, right?" Standing once again in the moonlit meadow, Sheppard surveyed the teams one final time. The thought of Rodney leading a team without him just didn't feel right.

"Major, you've been over this five times, already. I'm certain even Carson understands your directions by now." McKay's legendary impatience getting the better of him, he missed the teams stifled expressions to his outburst. Either that or he just plain decided to ignore them.

"Hey," the Scot snapped in indignation. "I'll remember that next time you come draggin' your sorry hide into my office, needin' me to patch up your latest blunder."

Seeing a retort instantly form on the physicist's lips, Sheppard grabbed his arm, turning the scientist away from the others. "Knock it off, you're making me look bad in front of our guest," his head gesturing towards Grose.

Oh, that did it. Squaring off to begin his next battle, Rodney glanced over Sheppard's shoulder towards the waiting teams. It was Carson with his arms folded, Zelenka wiping the condensation off his glasses, and Stackhouse waiting in the military 'rest' position that stopped him. _His_ team was ready and waiting. Lightning fast, his countenance shifted from arrogance to the still calm of authority. "Major, if you're finished, my team and I need to get to work _before_ the sun comes up."

Sheppard merely nodded, stepping back to give Rodney room to collect what he needed. His dark eyes never leaving his friend, satisfied in the knowledge that he and Elizabeth had made the right decision in picking the scientist to lead. Any man who could shoot a wraith dead center, step willingly into black energy-sucking creepy fog, and overcome nightmares to help someone he didn't even know without second thought, was just a damn good man. "McKay."

Rodney finished helping snap Beckett's P90 to the front of the doctor's vest before looking up. "We'll be fine, Major."

"I know you will. Do what you need to do and then get your ass back here as fast as you can. No stopping along the way to make new friends, either. I want breakfast back on Atlantis and then I'm going to bed."

The group broke into their separate teams, silently heading off in different directions. "Okay people," Rodney's voice called out from the darkness, mimicking Sheppard's usual departure call, "don't forget where we parked."

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

McKay's team slipped silently into the flash plant, making their way past the skeleton crew operating the facility. It was eerily quiet once you got used to the continual low hum of the spinning turbines.

Holding up his hand, Rodney signaled them to stop. "Do you hear that?"

"I don't hear a bloody thing," Carson whispered, his head tipped sideways, straining to pick up anything out of the ordinary.

"Shhh!" both scientists hissed simultaneously.

Glancing back and forth between Rodney and Radek, Carson scowled, shaking his head. It was Stackhouse's look of acceptance, standing perfectly still with his hands resting on his weapon, that made the doctor realize this was Rodney's show. "What do you hear?" he asked softly.

"Water," the Czech whispered, following Rodney down a staircase.

"Oh." Still not clear on why that would be a problem; Carson caught up and stopped the smaller scientist, "I thought this facility ran on water?"

"No, doctor, it's powered with steam from hydrothermal fluids above 200 degrees Celsius. The remaining water is pumped back out of the flash separator through injection wells."

Thoroughly confused, the doctor shook his head, "I still don't understand what the problem is?"

Rodney spun around, glaring at both men. "Carson," he hissed, "Shut. Up. before someone hears you." Not waiting for the man's reaction, he brusquely turned and continued further down the hall, disappearing inside a doorway.

The physician inhaled sharply before letting the breath out while counting to ten. McKay was right; he needed to stay focused on his task. The only reason he'd been chosen by Sheppard to be on this team in the first place was to keep an eye on Rodney.

A quick square of his shoulders and he followed the scientists into the command room to discover Rodney and Radek were hunched over a laptop studying a screen, and Stackhouse sliding an unconscious Pennatrocan to the back of the room.

"Look at that." Pointing to a series of spikes and dips on the monitor, the Czech scientist, turned to a second laptop, typing madly. "It's magnified in the past two days."

Rodney chewed on his bottom lip, eyes intensely studying the data before him. "This is worse than I thought." Spinning around the room, he stopped when he spied a piece of equipment that resembled the earth equivalent of a seismograph. "Oh, dear lord," he gasped, watching a rapid scribble of lines move swiftly across the page. Grabbing Carson and Radek by the arms, he pushed them towards the doorway. "Move!" he shouted.

The floor beneath their feet began to sway and shift as the building suddenly groaned in defeat. Ominous creaking of large pipes escalated into screaming metal ripping apart when super heated steam escaped high into the air, literally blowing the roof off the plant.

"Rodney, what the hell is happenin'?" Carson yelled, racing down the hallway with a death grip on Radek, while they both desperately tried to avoid pieces of crashing debris.

"Earthquake!" he shouted before stumbling; only to find himself lifted back on his feet by Sgt. Stackhouse. "The epicenter is almost directly below us! We have to get out of here now, or this whole building is going to come down on top of us!"

Running for their lives, they barely made their way back up the staircase before another terrifying wave shook apart the walls. Mortar, brick, and steel rained down on the men, burying them in a tomb of darkness.

SG: A

Grose stood silently observing Sheppard in the dark street behind the security building, as the major flipped open the laptop packed by McKay, while Teyla and Ford kept watch. When the Atlantis officer pulled out a sheet of instructions meticulously written, he snapped two clips he was holding onto the communications cable, rerouting the system to give them access to the inmates.

"Okay, here goes nothing," Sheppard murmured, typing in Rodney's commands. The screen promptly shifted, bringing up the internal files. "Yes. Thank you, Answer Man." Sensing the Colonels confusion, he grinned, "McKay was able to hack into their system when he first arrived. Don't ask me how, but he was able to interface the two so that we could get in and not get caught."

Quickly scrolling down through the inmate list, Grose pointed over Sheppard's shoulder to a name. "Jilla Rogus, she is my chief science officer."

"And the other?" he asked, surfing through the rest of the list.

"Cagen Grose, medical officer."

"Grose, huh?" Stopping the page, he looked up, "Any relation?"

The colonel stared at the screen before answering, "Yes, he is my son."

"Damn."

The older man quietly looked at Sheppard a moment before he nodded, "Yes...Damn."

You didn't have to be an astrophysicist genius to figure out what it meant to have left your son in Noda's care. Scrolling down through the list once more, Sheppard shook his head as he mentally added another reason to hate this place. "I found him." Pointing to the screen, he brought up Cagen's whereabouts. It looked as though the teammates where being kept far apart on separate floors of the facility. Apparently, Noda suspected someone might come looking for them and ensured breaking them out would be difficult.

Tapping his radio, Sheppard called Teyla and Ford to come back and meet them at the rear of the building. Explaining the situation, he broke the group up so that Teyla and Grose could get the science officer, while he and Ford went for Grose's son.

"Major Sheppard…" The colonel forced himself to stop, stepping back from the others to stare at the dark building before them.

"We understand, sir," Sheppard said, standing up after putting the laptop back in his pack. "Just remember, you got McKay out of this hell hole, even if it was a setup. We're going to return the favor and get your team, both of them." Taking several small charges from Ford, he attached them to the power box on the building and on the back door. With one of his infamous grins, he pressed the switch, effectively leaving the facility vulnerable to their mission. "We're in, we're out. Understood? As much as I'd like to personally kick Noda's ass, we don't have time. Be careful."

Slipping noiselessly into the darkened building, lit only by emergency backup lights, they split up. Chaos ensued within the center, just as it had previously when Grose had shut down the power. Inmates and guards filled dark hallways, creating a cacophony of noise and confusion, enabling the intruders to make their way unnoticed.

Within minutes, Sheppard's radio beeped. "We have her, Major," Teyla's voice informed calmly.

"Understood." Leaving his radio on, he gestured Ford to do the same as they made their way up a previously undetected stairwell. Stopping on the landing, he eased the door back to get a look down the hallway before closing it once more. "Same as all the other floors. I'll go in first. After a ten count, you follow."

Ford nodded, snapping the safety off his sidearm.

Sheppard slipped through the doorway, merging into the crowd towards Cagen's cell. It had occurred to him that the younger Grose may not be there, but there was also the possibility that he had been incapacitated the same as McKay. Stealing into the dim cell, he cursed vehemently. "He's not here," he hissed over the radio.

"Major Sheppard, we've been expecting you," a cold voice spoke from behind him.

Scrunching his eyes tightly before turning around, Sheppard pasted on his best fake smile and held his hands up from his sides. "Commander, you seem to be having a bit of a power problem." Two large goons came to stand on either side of him, bringing him about face towards Noda, to see the little SOB standing there with some sort of small device pressed into what had to be Grose's son's side. "Cagen?"

The man, who couldn't be much older than Ford, nodded stiffly. His pinched features and unsteady demeanor were similar to Rodney's during his incarceration.

"You sure do have flashy place, Noda. Bang up job on your security, though. I mean, you let just about anyone walk on here, don't you?" Taking a step back, the major glanced towards Grose's son and pretended to wipe at his eyes, sending a silent message to the other man.

Noda took a menacing step closer towards the cell, "Where is the rest of your team, Major?"

"Oh, you know, here and there. Well, actually, more there than here. Although I'm still here." 'Come on, Lieutenant,' he silently urged.

"I don't find you amusing. Perhaps, after you spend some time with us, you won't find yourself amusing either." Nodding to the guards, he snapped, "Take him to the white room."

The two hulking figures latched onto his arms, preparing to drag him away, when Sheppard heard Ford yell, "Heads up, Major!" Stabbing his fingers in his ears and turning away, he missed the blinding flash and loud bang, but gasped at the pungent odor of the assault grenade as both guards dropped to the floor.

"What the hell took you so long, Lieutenant?" Stepping over the unconscious bodies on the floor, he reached down and pulled Cagen's limp form up over his shoulder. Seeing Noda's weasely little ass out cold on the floor made him smile. Resisting the overwhelming urge to give him a hard kick for good measure, the major nodded to his second in command, "Thanks."

Ford smiled. "That was fun, sir. Kind of like bowling. If you'd have fallen, it would have been a strike."

"Huh, you're funny." Shifting his burden to get a better hold, he nodded towards the hallway, "Let's go."

Walking point, with his gun ready, Aiden smiled back over his shoulder, "I've been taking notes from you and Dr. McKay."

"You think McKay is funny?" Sheppard rolled his eyes with a grin while carefully making his way back down the stairwell. "I worry about you sometimes, Lieutenant."

The closer they got to the bottom of the stairwell, the more people they came in contact with. Inmates escaping out the back were filling the doorway. Out of nowhere, Colonel Grose appeared, standing outside in the moonlight. "Attention!"

The surrounding area instantly drew quiet to the booming voice of authority.

"Single file, one at a time. Let's get this done right, people." His eyes surveyed each departing individual and when a guard attempted to stop the fleeing masses, Grose dropped him cold with a straight shot to the jaw.

"Major, I like this guy," Ford chuckled.

Sheppard had to grin, "I've kind of gotten used to him myself. Although, his kid weighs a ton." Grateful to have finally made it to the bottom, he made his walked out into the moonlight, only to stop when he felt the ground move below his feet. "Oh, no. Not again."

The colonel appeared at his side and draped his son over his shoulder, "The others are waiting at the end of the block. We have to hurry, Major."

Sheppard didn't have to be told twice. Cutting through the panicking crowd, he followed close behind Grose, with Ford on his heels. Another more powerful shake caused them all to stumble before a tremendous explosion filled the night and then the city went dark. Grabbing his radio, he paged McKay's team while they ran. "McKay! Rodney, answer me!" His hails were met with static.

The earth continued to moan as tall buildings began swaying, shedding stone and steel towards the ground. "Run! Run, Damnit!" he shouted, knowing as any Californian would, what could happen. He herded the escapees like a dog herding sheep, trying to not think about what this would be like underground…where his friends were.

TBC

A/N Go Gaffer! That added line was great! Baaa… To the rest of you, are you still with me? Wake up! There's whumping going on!


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The last thing Rodney remembered, before the world ended in the stairwell, was shoving Carson against the railing, seeing Stackhouse do the same to Radek in front of them: then terrible noise, darkness, and pain. No one had ever told him that Hell would be humid and silent. Memories of his brief exposure to religion always portrayed flames and moaning, something about sinners wanting ice water; not drowning in a sauna, buried under a building, unable to move, or call out, or even draw a decent breath. All he knew was that time had stopped and he was in Hell.

Trying to move proved futile, his pack pressed tightly into his back as he lay pushed against a bulky unrecognizable shape, his legs pinned at an odd angle behind him. Miraculously, he was able to flex his left hand, sliding it up to touch his damp, gritty face and know that 'yes' he was still living.

Further exploration revealed that beneath the lumpy bulk pinned under his chest was a soft materiel, with something else under it. Carefully trailing his fingers up, he connected with a patch of warmth and rested his hand against the comforting contact, blinking back a tear of relief when he felt a steady twitch that brought hope to his torment: a slow persistent tapping against his fingertips that should mean something. But,what? He couldn't think, his million dollar brain was useless. What would Sheppard say?

Sheppard.

Sheppard.

Something he should remember.

Something about Sheppard and Beckett…Oh my god!

Focusing on the twitch, Rodney tried to calm his own racing heart. "Carson?" he wheezed, settling dust continuing to make breathing and talking difficult. "Radek? Stackhouse?" The twitch increased in speed before he heard small moan.

"Rodney?" The Scottish doctor answered, sounding confused and began to struggle beneath the scientist's grasp.

Biting the inside of his cheeks to stop from crying out when physician's elbow connected with an extremely painful rib, he grunted, "Easy Carson. I'm right behind you." His voice startled the doctor more and the struggling to be free intensified. Agony tore through Rodney's entire body when nerve endings that had been dormant due to shock came alive. "Carson, please stop," he gasped, stars dancing before his eyes in the darkness.

Instantly the struggling subsided, "Rodney?"

"Yeah."

"What happened?"

"The building collapsed before we got out."

"Oh." The Scot shifted a small amount, tying to stifle a cough building in his chest. "Can you move?" he puffed, working a hand free from under his pinned chest to feel McKay pressed against his back.

Rodney closed his eyes, concentrating on what he could feel, "I don't think so."

Carson groped about, plucking items from his heavy coat pocket, locating his small flashlight. With a flick of the switch, the remains of the stairwell were illuminated and their predicament became even more dire.

They were inside a small pocket, approximately a meter high by a little over a meter long, framed in broken girders and stone. Water from the condensed steam dripped to form a gritty grey paste, covering both men, making them look like something from a horror movie. There was no way to go up or back down the stairs. They were trapped.

A shift in the loose rubble ahead of them made both men cringe, before they spotted a boot attached to a leg disappear under the rubble. By the size of the print, it had to have been Sgt. Stackhouse. Where was Zelenka?

Carson must have been thinking the same thing. "I need to check on you and see if we can reach the others, Rodney, so I'm gonna try to slide out from under you. Do you think you can brace yourself up a wee bit to give me some room?"

He desperately wanted to say 'no' and beg the doctor not to move, knowing whatever was wrong with him was about to intensify tenfold. Instead, he sucked in as deep a breath as he could and pushed up with his left arm, giving Carson mere inches to squirm free. Pain spiked across his back as the tiny space swam before his eyes and the doctor's voice disappeared into a vacuum. Grayness filled his vision before he passed out.

When the scientist collapsed after Carson wiggled out from underneath the Canadian, the doctor reached out one-handed to catch the limp figure before his friend's head smacked against the stair. Fumbling with his right hand to unclip Rodney's pack, he held his own fractured left wrist tightly against his chest; now was not the time to fuss over himself. One quick tug and the heavy pack slipped off sideways, revealing nothing but Rodney's utility vest overtop his heavy jacket. Raising his small light higher, he scanned for any traces of blood or injuries and came up empty. Pulse weak and rapid, skin cool and clammy, pupils reacted sluggish to light; all signs of shock, "What's wrong with you, lad?"

Shoving debris aside, Carson made his way to his knees and peered down to Rodney's pinned legs underneath several chunks of mortar. "Well, lad, I hope you don't mind laying on your face a wee bit longer." One skilled hand traced over muscle and bone, causing a stifled moan when he touched the lower rib cage. With great care, he pushed aside the vest and coat to reveal swelling and bruising above his belt line

"Oh, Rodney, you can never do somethin' the easy way. Looks like you fractured a couple ribs; maybe busted somethin' inside." Stethoscope in place, he listened for the telltale signs of wheezing from a punctured lung and was relieved to hear shallow but normal breath sounds. The shifting of bone beneath the skin made the scientist moan again. "Sorry, lad," Carson grimaced, palpating the area as gently as possible.

His examination complete, and finding no sign of head trauma or extreme difficulty in breathing, he plunged a syringe of morphine deftly into Rodney's side. Within moments, the pain-filled lines across the injured man's face eased, sleep successfully capturing him.

With Rodney taken care of as much as possible, Carson wrestled out of his jacket and removed a roll of bandage from his bag, grimacing in discomfort as he wrapped his wrist. After a quick swallow of three acetaminophen tablets and shoving back more debris, he scoured through the packs, looking for anything that might be useful.

It was the crackle and hiss of static from his radio tucked securely in his vest pocket that made him jump. Grabbing it, he pressed the call button, "Major Sheppard? Anyone? Can you hear me?"

More broken static hissed before Zelenka's accent cut in and out, _"…Kay…Beckett…help…injured?"_

"Radek? Can you hear me? Rodney's trapped and he's hurt. We need help. How are you and Sgt. Stackhouse?"

"…_entranceway…brok'n …nkle…try…help…"_

Carson shook his head in frustration. The two other members of their team were so close, yet half the damn building seemed to be separating them. Not able to remove any more debris from his side, he would have to sit and wait. 'Come on,' he silently urged, tipping his head back against the wall, his good hand resting on Rodney's back. Was it just him or was the air growing thinner? Wiping sweat off his face, he blinked around the inside of the small tomb, watching rivulets of water trace patterns through the grey dust

When he was young, his grandmother had scared him with stories of men caught in local mine collapses that occurred when she was a girl. How bodies were dug out after days of search, giving the boy nightmares for years to come. Now, here he was living one of his greatest fears.

"I need to think of somethin' else." Shifting so that once again he was seated near Rodney's legs, he began to work on the debris while talking to his friend. "Did I ever tell you the story, Rodney, about my cousin Kenny? He always wanted to be in the circus. One day he decided to run off to Canada and join the Cirque de Soleil." Deep into his tale, he eventually freed McKay's right leg and began to work on the other when an ominous rumble shook the stair, causing a small cascade of dust and rubble.

Throwing himself over his friend to protect him from further injury, he was surprised to see the scientist's pale blue eyes slit open and watching him.

"Tell me more 'bout Kenny," Rodney whispered, once the aftershock quieted.

Carefully dusting off the newest fragments from the injured man, Carson returned to his task and story. "Well, you see now, there's not a lot for a large Scottish lad with no talent to be doin' in such a show, but he was persistent." His voice droned on quietly, filling the small space with a false sense of security. They just needed to hold on a little longer.

SG: A

Sheppard and his team forced their way through throngs of terrified people shivering in the cold night air. He knew something terribly wrong had happened at the power station and was unable to raise any of Rodney's crew over the radio.

Another powerful shock ripped across the ground, knocking the Colonel and his son down. "Go!" the alien commander shouted, waving for the others to continue. "We'll meet you there. Find your people, Major." His science officer dropped down beside him, offering assistance before she shot a look back up toward her rescuers and nodded.

"Maintain radio contact, Grose. I don't want to have to come looking for you," Sheppard instructed before racing after Teyla and Ford's disappearing figures. Closing in on the edge of the city, they picked their way over rubble of downed buildings and bodies. Fires sprang up unheeded; burning brightly to light up the moonless night. None of them had ever been witness to such destruction.

"What do you think caused this, Major?" Ford asked, giving Teyla a hand over a pile of shattered glass.

"McKay said whatever the Pennatrocan's were doing at the plant could cause such an event." Stopping a moment to survey their surroundings, he shook his head. "To think someone killed the one person capable of possibly stopping this."

"_Major Sheppard, come in please. Major Sheppard." _Dr. Zelenka's static filled voice crackled over the radio.

Ripping his radio from his vest, he hit the call switch, "Zelenka! Where the hell are you? What happened?"

"_Dr. McKay discovered the epicenter located directly below the plant. We were making our way out when the structure exploded and collapsed."_

"Is McKay with you?"

"_No, only Sgt. Stackhouse. Doctors Beckett and McKay got cut off from us on the stairwell."_

Sheppard closed his eyes as he felt a brief sharp pain tighten across his chest. Opening back up to see the concerned faces of Teyla and Ford, he nodded. "Radek, have you been able to contact them?"

"_Yes, very briefly. Dr. Beckett stated that Dr. McKay is trapped and injured. Sgt. Stackhouse is trying to dig them out now."_

"We're not too far away from the plant. What's your position?"

"_Stairwell on the northeast corner."_

The team hurried along the backside of the plant, relieved to hear from Zelenka but now even more worried about the others. "Doctor, are you or the sergeant injured?"

"_Sergeant Stackhouse has a broken ankle and possible concussion." _

"And you?"

There was a pause before the Czech scientist replied. _"I have a problem with my shoulder."_

"We're almost there, Doctor. Hang on." Shoving his radio away, he stopped beside what originally had been the rear entranceway, only now it was filled with rubble. "Let's get to work, people," he instructed, pulling free a large sheet of roofing material.

Ford and Teyla followed suit, and within minutes, they cleared a passage large enough to get into the building.

The major was the first in, crawling on his hands and knees, passing debris back out behind him. Working towards Zelenka's position, he was surprised when he practically bumped into the man. The doctor sat propped against the wall looking haggard with a jagged piece of metal jutting through his shoulder. "Doctor."

Glazed pale blue eyes turned to meet him, before recognition set in. "Major, it's good to see you."

Sheppard smiled encouragingly, "You too, doctor." Carefully peeling back Radek's coat, he got a better glimpse at the injury, and gritted his teeth. "Teyla, can you give him a hand?"

The Athosian woman took up his spot as he moved forward towards the sound of Stackhouse digging through the rubble. "Like some help?"

The sergeant wearily turned towards his voice, squinting in the brightness of the flashlight. "I was wondering when you were going to join the party, Major."

Sheppard took in the man's swollen black eye and dried blood on the right side of his forehead. Also, a crude splint covered his left foot. If Zelenka and Stackhouse looked so rough, he could only imagine how Beckett and McKay had fared. "Take a break, Sergeant. Ford and I will spell you for a bit."

"The three of us can reach them faster, sir. They can't be much further down."

"Not if we have to take time to haul you out of here. Go back and see Teyla." Watching the man's retreating form, the major called over his shoulder, "You've done a great job, Sergeant."

Ford worked his way next to Sheppard and grimaced at the sight of blood on the floor. "It looks like it's been pretty rough, sir."

"Yeah." Pulling out his radio, he flipped the switch, "Beckett? McKay? Can you read me?"

Static filled the line.

"_Major?" _

"Carson?"

TBC

A/N Thank you for all of your great reviews and notes! RL has been hanging on like a ball and chain, letting very little writing get done these last few weeks. I greatly appreciate your patience as I chug along with this story. (I never realized this was going to be so long.) Oh, and don't worry, I'm not done with Noda, yet. Hope you're ready for more! Jen


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13 (A bit of frustrated language in this chapter.)

"You should have seen the pictures, Rodney." Carson shook his head at the memory before continuing to work on the one remaining chunk of debris resting against the back of the scientist's left heel. Wiping sweat and grime from his face, he scowled; one-handed there was no way he was going to be able to move it. "I thought my Uncle Sean was goin' to have a bloody coronary. There's Kenny in a skintight flesh tone body suit, red swirls of color splashed over him from head to toe." Leaning forward, the doctor checked to make sure his audience was still listening.

Glazed, half lidded blue eyes met his. A fine sheen of sweat soaked Rodney's shirt to his back, making it easier for the Scot to watch his breathing and spot any difficulty. Ripping the bottom off the front of his shirt, he soaked it using bottled water, before wiping his friend's brow. "I can't tell if you have a fever, lad, or you're just overheated from laying in this stifling bloody sauna."

Rodney blinked; his struggle to reopen more difficult each time.

A faint sound of banging continued on the steps above them, causing both men to look up. "Sound like they're gettin' closer. Won't be much longer now." Refreshing the damp cloth, Carson laid it back across Rodney's brow.

"So, back to Kenny. Turns out he's become a clown! The biggest darn clown I think anyone's ever seen." Holding out his uninjured arm to flex, Carson grinned, "We're talking the size of Schwarzenegger, here, Rodney. The boy's built like a bloody battleship from all his years of workin' out." Pausing for effect, he smirked, "Uncle Sean cried for days."

No matter how hard he tried, Rodney couldn't stop the chuckle gurgling up from inside and gasped in anguish when his damaged back protested. "Please," he wheezed, his eyes tightly clenched as he rode out the pain.

Without thinking, Carson quickly shifted and held his friend, trying to pass on some small ounce of comfort. Movement of his own broken wrist sent a wave of red hot agony spiking up his arm and into his chest. "Damnit!" he yelled into the darkness, his accent even more pronounced with frustration. "Where the bloody hell is everyone?"

As if by divine intervention, his desperate plea was answered: static burst over the silent radio. _"Beckett? McKay? Can you read me?" _ Sheppard's voice crackled inside the tomb.

Carson quickly felt about on the step beside him, grasping the small piece of equipment. "Major?"

"_Carson?"_

Looking down at Rodney's closed eyes, he sighed in relief. "Aye, lad. Please tell me you're gonna get us out of here soon."

"_Ford and I are working on it. How's McKay?"_

"He's still trapped by one foot; I canna get it loose." Pausing a moment, he swallowed, "And he has some broken ribs."

The Major must have caught the hesitation in the physician's voice, realizing there was more than what was being said_. "Understood. Stackhouse had a good headway started for us to get to you. It shouldn't be too much longer. There's some big pieces on this side, we'll try to stop them from falling your way."_

"We'd appreciate that."

"_Doc?"_

"Yes, Major?"

"_You alright?"_

"Aye, lad, just hurry."

"_See you in a bit. Sheppard out."_

The noise of increased activity continued above them; soon raining more debris down into their tight space as Carson sat huddled next to Rodney, protecting him from further harm. When the scientist groaned and shifted slightly, Carson held him still, "They're almost here, son. The major and Ford are makin' all that racket above us."

"I want a vacation," the scientist mumbled.

"How does a few days in bed with enough pharmaceuticals to knock out a horse sound to you?"

"Take what I can get," the Canadian slurred, no longer able to open his eyes. "Cars'n?"

"I'm here, lad. What do you need?"

Rodney's free left hand groped minutely, searching for some unseen object. "Hurts," he whispered, followed by the scientist's telltale swallow of fear.

Carson blinked back the sudden formation of wetness in his eyes. He wasn't afraid to shed a tear, it was just that he felt so damn useless with his friend beside him, clearly suffering, and there was not a damn thing he could do about it. Reaching inside his vest pocket, he fingered his two remaining preloaded syringes of morphine. A quick glance to the rubble before them and to the sound of continued digging, then back to the medication in his hand, he made up his mind. Hopefully, help would arrive before he ran out. Biting off the protective cap, he once again provided Rodney with the only relief available.

"There, lad," he whispered, awkwardly reaching out to hold Rodney's left hand with his own. "You can rest for a bit." A slight squeeze to his fingers was the only reply before the hand grew limp.

Carson continued to sit on his knees, leaning over his friend with his hand wrapped protectively over the other man's. He'd never really been a religious man, but now was the time to beg to the omnipotent power that he'd seen perform miracles when there was little or no hope left. Closing his eyes, he said the only prayer he knew, "Please."

He didn't know how long he sat there listening to Rodney's quiet breathing before a hint of fresh air brushed against his face. Instinctively turning towards it, he was surprised to see light shining from between the rubble and then a hand appear, pulling back a block of debris. Shifting to stop a large chunk from moving on his side of the pile, he looked up once more to see the concerned face of Major Sheppard staring worriedly back at him. "Well, it's about time, John," he said in quiet relief.

Sheppard took in the physician's exhausted façade and then the still form of the scientist beside him. For Carson to call him by his first name, he knew something bad must have happened. "Is he…?"

The Scot shook his head 'no'. "He's asleep."

"Oh." The major remained still, staring at both his friends, grateful to know he hadn't been too late.

"Major, as much as I appreciate seein' your face, might you get back to gettin' us out of here?"

The infamous, cocky grin appeared on the young officer's face as he called back over his shoulder, "Did you hear that, Ford? Doc says it's time for us to get a move on." Whatever had been the Lieutenant's reply only made his grin larger. "Almost done," he assured, "We have to move a girder and then we should have you out of there. Holler if you need me." With that, he disappeared back on the other side.

Carson sat still, listening to the bits and pieces of conversation from their rescuers. He recognized Sheppard and Ford's voices. And was that Colonel Grose? Who was the female? He smiled to himself, realizing that the Major's mission must have been successful. Once he and Rodney were free, they could go home.

Another moan from the building quickly snapped him from his musings of a shower and coffee. 'Oh hell, another bloody aftershock!' he mentally cursed, draping himself protectively over Rodney's inert form. Several new chunks dropped painfully onto his back, making him gasp before he felt something else touch his shoulder.

"Hey, doc, ready to go home?"

Shifting in the cramped space, Carson came face to face with one Major John Sheppard and before he had a chance to move, said Major grasped him in a quick grab and release hug. A bit surprised at the display of affection, the Scot allowed himself to smile, "I couldn't agree more, lad."

Sheppard nodded. "Ford's ready to give you a hand. You're going to have to crawl." Dropping his gaze to the physician's bandaged hand, he glanced back up, "Can you make it okay?"

"I'll manage, Major." Making room for the other man to get around him, he paused, "Don't jostle him. I'm pretty sure he has internal injuries from his broken ribs but I don't know to what extent. Keep him flat and don't turn him over."

Another nod. "Anything else?"

"I gave him a shot of morphine about an hour ago so he's still out of it. Just be very gentle."

"Gentle. Got it." Flattening back against the wall, Sheppard made room for Carson to squeeze past him, watching him slowly disappear through the hole they'd made, before he got his first real look at Rodney. "Another close call, my friend," he whispered, shining his light down to the trapped leg. "Looks like Carson almost had you free."

It took a few minutes, but with a grunt of satisfaction, he was able to work the remaining chunk of stone off Rodney's foot. "I have to tell you, McKay, I don't give a rat's ass about anyone on this planet anymore. What do you say; we blow this place and go home?"

"Sounds good," came the surprising slurred response.

"Hey," Sheppard dropped beside Rodney's head, leaning down to see his friend's face. "I thought you were sleeping."

"No pillow," the scientist grunted, his eyes remaining closed.

"Excuse me, sir," Ford interrupted from his position halfway through the hole, "I've got the litter."

"Send it through, Lieutenant." Sheppard placed his hand on Rodney's sweat soaked head, "Ready?"

"Yeah."

"Let me do all the work, alright." The only response he got was a raised eyebrow. "You know, McKay, even silent, you're a mouthy bastard."

That earned him a quirk of a smile.

Pulling the makeshift litter beside them, Sheppard waited for Ford to make his way into the tight spot before slipping his hands beneath Rodney's shoulders. "On three. Nice and slow, Lieutenant."

Rodney groaned once, his left hand tightly gripping the side of the litter when Sheppard wiggled backwards out the hole, shifting the head of the device with him. "Almost there," he encouraged, once he slipped through the other side.

The colonel and Beckett stood waiting on the other side, having already ushered the rest of the team outside to relative safety, away from the collapsed building. Grose quickly relieved Ford of his burden so he could go back through and retrieve the discarded packs.

Moving swiftly through the building, they exited out into the cold morning air, surprised to see a fine coating of snow covering the ground. Carson pulled his jacket back on, shivering as the cold air chilled his sweat dampened skin, watching Sheppard drape Rodney's over his back, tucking it snug beneath his body.

"Okay, everybody," the major called out once he was finished. "We've got a bit of a walk back to the jumper and God only knows what's waiting for us there. Teyla and Ford, you carry Zelenka. Grose and I have McKay." Turning to Grose's remaining crew, he eyed up the young pale young doctor and lady scientist, "You're in charge of the sergeant."

They nodded, allowing the larger man to drape his arms over their shoulders.

Carson took up position walking beside Rodney, his hand gripping the side of the litter. Sheppard wasn't sure if it was for support or just to help in some small way. A quick glance to the group of walking wounded, he shook his head. This was one day he never wanted to live over again.

SG: A

The walk back to the jumper had been treacherous, having to make their way past collapsed buildings and untamed fires. Bodies littered the ground, not all dead, but the group continued past. It was the sight of the meadow holding the cloaked jumper that brought the ragtag group to a halt.

Checking the perimeter for any unwanted company, Sheppard stepped out from the surrounding tree line, his P90 swinging back and forth slowly. Satisfied that the coast was clear, he signaled the others to join him while punching in the code to decloak the jumper. The feeling that once again this had all been to easy, he warily watched his team members climb in the back of the vessel.

A snap of a twig from behind him caused him to spin and drop on one knee, his gun pointed in the direction of the sound. There standing in the early sunlight stood one Commander Noda.

"Major Sheppard," the sneering little man drawled, "leaving so soon?"

TBC

A/N ;) It's Noda time!


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

A snap of a twig from behind caused him to spin and drop on one knee, his gun pointed in the direction of the sound. There standing in the early sunlight stood one Commander Noda.

"Major Sheppard," the sneering little man drawled, "leaving so soon?"

For one fleeting moment of insanity, the major's finger twitched over the trigger. He fought back the overwhelming urge to pepper the little bastard with enough fire that even his own mother wouldn't be able to recognize him. Features set in stone; he rose slowly to his feet, his gaze never wavering from the other man. "Ford, turn on the shield!" he shouted out over his shoulder.

The commander chose to ignore the activities within the jumper, clearly focused on his closest prey. "I can't let you leave, Major."

"Well, that's just too damn bad cause we think your hospitality sucks." He smiled inwardly at the prickling sensation against the back of his neck from the shield being activated, "And a piece of shit dictator, who lets his people die needlessly, doesn't really have a big say in what we can and can't do."

Noda remained smug, his eyes tightly fixed on his opponent. When his head dipped a fraction, a shot rang out from the edge of the field, smacking into the shield, directly above Sheppard's head, but to his chagrin, the Atlantis officer didn't flinch.

With deliberate slowness, the commander turned his back and walked towards the rear of the now hidden jumper, cautiously extending his hand to test the shield. "I had this field mined after your previous departure, knowing you would return for the remaining offworlders."

Sheppard scowled, his eyes raking the snow-covered ground looking for proof. "Why?"

"Because I can. This is my planet, these are my people, and you," gesturing to those safely tucked away inside the jumper and then Sheppard, "you, have interfered."

"In what? You single handedly caused the destruction of a city. A city! You killed thousands of innocent people last night, and I still don't understand why."

The others inside the jumper had stopped to listen to the argument beyond the shield.

The stiff back on the small man appeared to straighten even more, a sinister smile lighting his eyes, knowing they were watching him. Clasping his hands together, he pulled off his gloves to rub some semblance of warmth back into his chilled fingertips; the palmed control to the minefield went unnoticed. "And how is _Mister_ McKay? All rested up? No more headaches, I hope. Although… it looked like a headache was the least of his worries."

When the Major didn't make a move, but instead assumed a stance of indifference, the commander's smile slipped. Without warning, he tapped the small device in his palm, causing a violent explosion behind the jumper to rock the small craft, knocking all who were standing inside, off their feet.

"Enough!" Sheppard yelled, imagining the havoc it must have caused to his team. "Either tell me what the hell you want or let us go."

Noda now assumed the closest personification to evil that Sheppard had ever seen, the sneer that filled his face held no recognizable humanity. "Colonel Grose and his team infiltrated my city and turned my people against me."

Sheppard's gaze shifted to where the jumper sat, before returning to Noda, "You mean, Dr. Mika?"

"She came to me with accusations that I was failing my people. She demanded change. She. Demanded. Change." Eyes filled with hatred focused on the major, "No one tells me what I should do."

"You had her killed, didn't you?" Pieces began to come together of how insane this little man truly was, "Maybe not by your own hand, but by the man from the picture."

"My son," Noda gloated, nodding towards the hidden sniper, "he understands what it takes to run a strong city."

"I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, huh?" Shifting sideways to put himself within a few meters from the jumper, he continued talking, "So why go after Dr. McKay?"

A second explosion ripped the ground off to Sheppard's left, knocking him unexpectedly from his feet. "Don't move again, Major, or there will be no pieces of you left to take back to your precious Atlantis."

"I asked you," he gritted out, signaling Ford behind his back to let him know how many people were in the vicinity, "why Dr. McKay?" Three short bursts of static broke over his radio. A subtle nod, he continued, "Why did you let him escape with Grose?"

Noda advanced towards the fallen major; he clearly was enjoying his advantage, "I _knew_ you would return for the others." Absently fingering the small control, his dark eyes now mere slits, he leaned closer, "And now, _I will_ keep him to rebuild my city."

"You see, there's the problem in your logic. You think taking McKay is what you want, but once you learn about his temperament and feeding schedule, he always ends up coming back."

Tired of the insubordinate wit, Noda gestured impatiently towards the shielded jumper, "I want Mr. McKay."

"Yeah, well, it ain't gonna happen. He's injured." Making a small snowball, Sheppard tossed it towards the ship, watching it splat against the shield. "And I imagine the only reason they're still hanging around, is so that they can see me kick your ass before we go."

The commander aimed the handheld device at the major's chest, "Get up."

Sheppard could feel his sidearm pressing against his leg. Amazed that Noda hadn't disarmed him before now, he made his way to his knees, pressing his hands against his thighs to rise. In one swift move, he slipped it free from the holster, aiming squarely at the spot where Noda should have a heart.

The commander, in return, completed a back roundhouse that would have made Chuck Norris proud, knocking the gun away. His open right palm shot out, connecting painfully against the major's windpipe.

Falling to his knees, Sheppard gasped for breath, before sacking Noda at the knees, bringing the smaller man to the ground hard enough that he lost his hold on the detonator. A quick kick to the commander's chest gave the major enough time to reach out and grasp the device, tossing it towards the shield.

Noda was not about to be beaten. Years of doing anything and everything to get to the top had made him a skilled fighter, especially against those who were larger than he was. Once again, his hand shot out, this time in a tight fist connecting with Sheppard's unprotected kidney region.

The major dropped, clutching his side in agony. Seeing Noda's foot about to swing in for the final blow, he ignored the pain and grabbed the commander's leg, flipping him onto his back. Quickly straddling his adversary's chest, he put everything he had into his punch, feeling the commander's jaw shatter like glass.

The clatter of P90 fire close by startled him, causing him to jerk and look up. He had never heard Ford and Grose come to stand on either side of him, weapons raised, firing into the tree line.

Sporadic return fire bounced off the shield surrounding the jumper as his friends grabbed him under the arms, rushing him back towards safety. A second volley had Ford drop to his knee, effectively spraying the woods until only silence filled the meadow.

"Ready to go home, Sir?" Ford asked, gently pulling the major's arm over his shoulder.

"More than you can imagine," Sheppard whispered hoarsely, his bruised side and throat stealing his breath away.

The unmistakable slide of a round being loaded into a chamber caused all three men to drop simultaneously to the ground. This time it was Grose spinning smoothly about, his sharp aim planted a bullet between Noda's eyes, killing the man instantly before his body could even twitch on the ground.

Unfortunately, the Pennatrocan leader had also fired one final shot, hitting his target before he died; Major Sheppard.

SG: A

Rodney lay on his stomach, medicated to the point of being pain free, listening to the bits and pieces of conversation about him. He heard Carson speaking softly to Zelenka, something about stopping the bleeding. The Czech scientist's reply was too quiet for him to understand. Sequestering the minute dregs of energy still harbored within his battered body, he mentally cajoled his eyes to open in search of the other missing voice.

"Dr. McKay?" A young man he didn't know leaned in front of him, making eye contact. "How are you feeling?"

Rodney studied the unfamiliar face, trying to come up with a name. "Who are you?" he tried to say, his thick cottony tongue getting in the way.

"I'm Cagen Grose. Colonel Grose is my father."

"Oh." He blinked owlishly, thinking he should know the name but came up blank. "Cars'n?"

He must have closed his eyes again because the gentle brush of a hand across the side of his head startled him. "Come on, lad," the Scots lilting brogue urged, beckoning him like the quiet ring of a harbor bell to a fisherman in the fog. Following the sound, he discovered that his friend had replaced the stranger.

"Atlantis?" he whispered.

"Nay, not yet lad. We're waitin' on the Major." Recognizing the flash of panic in Rodney's face, Carson stepped back to give his friend a view towards the rear of the jumper. "You can see him from here. He's just outside havin' a discussion with Commander Noda."

Rodney blinked several times, trying to bring the images around him into focus. Finally able to make out the heated discussion between the two men outside the jumper, he watched the commander wave something and then felt a terrible thundering jolt. Carson lost his balance, falling against him, and both men cried out in renewed pain.

He wasn't sure how long it was before he could breathe again. Hesitantly reopening his eyes, he discovered that he was still inside the jumper, only now an IV was poking into his arm and an oxygen mask covered his face. The comforting heavy warmth of a blanket draped over him and the numbing effects of Carson's magic happy drugs pulled him back towards sleep when a second close explosion shook the ship.

The voices had grown louder and he was certain he'd heard his name. Trying to see past the backs of Ford and Grose standing in the rear hatch of the jumper, he could barely make out the shapes of two people fighting. Suddenly the Lieutenant and Colonel ran from the ship firing their P90s at some unseen foe. Within moments, the scuffle had ended and he was able to make out the three men walking back in his direction.

Something must have spooked them, because they all suddenly dropped to the ground. There was more gunfire and only Sheppard seemed to fall face first, not moving.

Time stood still as he watched everyone run from the jumper and surround the fallen man. Fearing the worst, and not wanting to lose one of his two best friends, he fumbled with the oxygen mask, shoving it off his face before painfully pushing himself to his feet. The IV line snagged, tearing out of his arm as he stumbled out the ship, landing in a heap in the snow beside the major's limp form.

A multitude of hands grabbed him, voices calling his name, but he chose to ignore them, focusing entirely on the closed eyes of the self assured, cocky American. Willing him to open his green eyes, Rodney held his breath, reaching out to touch his friend, his brother.

The umpteenth miracle happened on Pennatroca that day when Sheppard briefly met the Canadian's gaze, both sharing the hint of a lopsided smile before passing out.

SG: A

Carson sat in his office chair between the two beds of Sheppard and McKay, waiting for signs that his friends would soon wake up. It had been three days since they'd returned and he was growing antsy.

Three days since he'd piloted the jumper back while having a broken wrist. He couldn't wait to share that story with Rodney, to see the look on his face when he told him how he scraped the side of the jumper coming through the gate.

It seemed as though every person from the medical team was standing by when the jumper had landed. Led by Dr. Derek Lawrence, the bedraggled group was triaged, with McKay and Sheppard being top priorities. Then came the agonizingly slow wait while they were examined, x-rayed, and put back together.

Glancing about, he realized this was one of the 'thankfully rare' moments when all the beds in the infirmary were full. Radek's shoulder was stitched, Stackhouse's foot set, and he had received his first ever cast for a broken wrist. He wouldn't allow anyone to sign it until the other's had first dibs. He could wait.

Of course, Weir and the others had been in countless times, standing silently in the doorway: watching, praying, and offering moral support while staying out of the way.

One of the things that truly surprised the physician, although after reflecting on it later, he knew it shouldn't have, was the night he came back to find Colonel Grose sitting in his chair keeping watch. How many times had he found the major in the exact same position, waiting for his teammates to recover? Grose and his team waited two days before deciding that they needed to return to their own home world, promising to maintain relations with Atlantis.

And now, here he was again, sitting between both men, who were laying flat on their stomachs, facing one another. Derek had threatened him before to get some rest, catching him numerous times earlier, pacing back and forth between the beds, fussing like a mother hen. Nevertheless, the surgeon eventually gave up, saying something about washing his hands of stubborn Scottish blokes who had nothing better to do than question his every judgment. Instead, he wheeled out the chair with a pillow, merely pointed, and then walked away.

It was Sheppard who first opened his eyes. Blinking heavily through the sedation, his gaze fell on the smiling face of the Scotsman who sat eye level to his position. Quirking a brow, he waited for the report on his condition.

"You were lucky, lad. The shot bruised your spine when it stopped against your vest, causin' a bit of swellin' that we were concerned about, but it appears that you're gonna be fine. Your responses are returnin' to normal, but don't be thinkin' you're goin' back on duty any time soon."

Seeing the raised eyebrow and a glance towards McKay, Carson sighed. "He's gonna be fine, also. His broken ribs pressed into his diaphragm but didn't puncture it. Bloody miracle if you ask me. He'll need time to rest."

The penetrating green eyes locked on to the Scotsman, silently demanding more information.

"Everyone's here. We all made it back safely," he assured. "Rest now."

Reassured, the sleepy gaze shifted back over to the other bed, a slight smile curling up the corner of his mouth.

Carson spun around in his seat to see a hint of blue watching them. "Welcome back, lad," he whispered, sliding his chair back so that all three could see one another.

SG:A

Two days later, Dr. Lawrence stood outside the infirmary doors, listening to the laughter emanating from inside the room. Rolling the three different colored Sharpie markers back and forth in his palm, he took a deep breath and plunged in through the doorway.

"Well, it's about time," Rodney snapped, holding out his left hand for a pen while his right still wrapped protectively around his middle.. "I want the blue one."

Sheppard reached out from his bedside, catching Derek by the lab coat, and snagged the desired pen first, "McKay, I told you, I get the blue one."

"No," the physicist objected, cautiously swinging his legs sideways over the edge of the bed, "you said you wanted the red one and Sgt. Stackhouse wanted the black one."

"Gentlemen," Carson placed his hand on Rodney's arm, effectively pushing him back onto the bed, "you could share."

The room remained silent an entire second before their resident genius huffed indignantly, "Oh, yeah, right. Like I want to be like everyone else."

Sheppard winked at Carson, knowing exactly how to push the scientist's buttons. Uncapping the marker, he waved it just out of reach, "McKay, no one could ever compare to you."

Rodney glowed smugly a moment before frowning, watching the major place a smiley faced wraith on Beckett's wrist, "Wait, is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

The End

A/N First and foremost, thanks to Gaffer for her patient betaing. Also, thanks to Elyse who helped with the first half of this story. Betas are an awesome thing!

Secondly, thanks to all of you who took the time to comment. I know how easy it is to read something and not leave a note, so I greatly appreciate your thoughtfulness.

This is the longest story I've ever written! Whew! I'm glad it's done!

Take care and God bless, Jen

P.S. A favorite line of mine from the movie "Without A Clue" seems to fit right about here… "There are more surprises yet to come." So until next time…


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